S LIBRARY OF-CONGRESS. S ; 



{ JMclf M : | 



j UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. {' 



TEXT-BOO K 



IN 



INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY, 



FOR SCHOOIS AND COLLEGES; 



CONTAINING AN OUTLINE OF THE SCIENCE, WITH AN ABSTRACT 
OF ITS HISTORY. 



BY J. X. CHAMPLIN, D.D., 

PRESIDENT OF COLBY UNIVERSITY. 



NEW EDITION, REMODELED. 



WOOLWOETH, AINSWORTH, AOT3 COMPAQ, 

NEW YORK. 












Entered according lo Act of Congress, in the year 1874, by 

WOOLWORTH, AlNSWORTH, & COMPANY, 

In the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington. 



CONTENTS. 



INTRODUCTION. 

Page. 
Definitions and Divisions, 11 

CHAPTER I. 

CONSCIOUSNESS. 

SECTION I. 
Nature of Consciousness, 19 

SECTION II. 

Concentration of Consciousness (Attention and Reflection), , 26 

CHAPTER II. 

PERCEPTION. 

SECTION I. 

Sensation and Perception, * 31 

SECTION II. 

Theories of Perception, 42 

SECTION III. 

Perception by the Different Senses, 49 

SECTION IV. 

Importance of the Senses, 65 

vii 



Vlll CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER III. 
MEMORY. 

section i. 

Page. 
Conditions of Memory, 70 

SECTION II. 

Theories of Memory, 81 

SECTION III. 

What we Remember, 88 

SECTION IV. 

Associative and Logical Thought, 94 

SECTION v. 
Importance of Memory,. . . 97 

CHAPTER IV. 

IMAGINATION. 

SECTION I. 

Nature of Imagination, 102 

SECTION II. 

Uses of the Imagination, 107 

SECTION III. 

Training of the Imagination, 113 

CHAPTER V. 

CONCEPTION. 
SECTION I. 

Nature of Conception, 118 

SECTION II. 

Formation of Concepts, 122 



CONTENTS. IX 

SECTION III. 

Page. 
Kinds of Concepts, 124 

SECTION IV. 

Theories of Conception, : 129 

section v. 
Importance of Conception, 132 

CHAPTER VI. 

JUDGMENT. 
SECTION I. 

Nature of Judgment, 136 

SECTION II. 

Kinds of Judgments, 139 

CHAPTER VII. 
REASONING. 
SECTION I. 

Nature of Reasoning, 144 

SECTION II. 

Kinds of Reasoning, 149 

SECTION III. 

First Principles of Reasoning, 155 

section IV. 
Improvement of the Reasoning Powers, 160 

CHAPTER VIII. 

SPECULATIVE KNOWLEDGE. 

SECTION II. 

Introductory, 166 



X CONTENTS. 

section ii. 

Page. 
Of our Ideas of Substance and Attributes, 169 

SECTION III. 

Of our Ideas of Cause and Effect 173 

SECTION IV. 

Of our Ideas of Space and Time, 177 

SECTION v. 

Of the Infinite and the Absolute, 183 

APPENDIX. 
Abstract of the History of Philosophy, 187 



INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 



INTRODUCTION. 

DEFINITIONS AND DIVISIONS. 

1. Definition of person. — The human person em- 
braces both the internal knowing principle, and the ex- 
ternal material organism, the powers of knowing, feeling, 
willing, and acting, — the body as well as the soul, the 
mind as well as the matter which encloses it. When 
one says my body, my soul, my reason, my hand, and 
the like, he claims each of these as belonging to himself, 
and equally as constituting but a part of himself. To 
be present in person, is not merely to be present in 
thought, but to be present bodily. 

1. An individual object is one which exists by itself, separate from 
other objects ; or, at least, one which is capable of being separated from 
other objects in thought. A human person is a conscious individual ; 
not only existing apart from other objects, a rounded whole by himself, 
but aware of his different parts, and recognizing them as his own. What 
is called personal identity, or the sameness of the individual at different 
times, includes the body only as a typal form, like the new grain of 
wheat which springs from that which is sown (" We are sown a natural 
body, we are raised a spiritual body ") ; but the internal knowing prin- 
ciple seems ever the same. 

11 



12 INTRODUCTION. 

2. Definition of mind. — The mind, however (from 
the Latin mens, Greek psvog, strength*), is recognized as 
the most important part of the human person, — as that 
which gives him his power, life, and motion. The body 
and its organs are made up of the same substances as the 
trees, rocks, and other material objects around us, only 
differently arranged and compounded. And as we 
never think of ascribing life and intelligence to these 
material objects, so we cannot believe that the phe- 
nomena of life and intelligence manifest in the human 
person belong to the body. Hence we must ascribe 
them to an altogether different principle ; which is 
variously denominated the mind, the soul, or the spirit. 
As the manifestations of this principle are entirely dif- 
ferent from the phenomena of matter, we call it imma- 
terial. 

3. Definition of knowing, feeling, and willing. — The 
distinctive phenomena of the mind are those of knowing, 
feeling, and willing. In its most general sense, knowl- 
edge is the being aware of any thing, the realization of 
what is going on within a certain sphere. It includes 
thus the consciousness of the various affections or 
changes which take place in the different organs or 
parts of the body, as well as the apprehension of exter- 
nal objects ; the direct information which we receive 
through the senses, and recall by the memory, as well 
as the inductions and deductions which we make from 
the materials thus furnished us. In short, knowing 
is seeing, tasting, hearing, touching, remembering, un- 

2. The term " soul " designates the mind more specifically as embra- 
cing the principle of life in the being; and the term "spirit" represents 
it as capable of being either embodied or disembodied. — " Phenomena M 
means appearances, or manifestations. 



INTRODUCTION. 13 

derstanding, reasoning, &c. As to feeling and willing, 
they are intimately connected with knowing, though 

different from it. The sensations in the organ con- 

© 

nected with seeing, hearing, touching, &c, as well as 
the painful or pleasurable emotions which arise from 
the information derived from the exercise of these 
powers, or from memory, reasoning, and the like, are 
different forms of feeling ; while willing is the determi- 

© 7 © 

nation and the final impulse given to act according to 
the suggestions of our thoughts and feelings. Thus, we 
may see a beautiful landscape, and may experience cer- 
tain pleasurable feelings in consequence of the sight, 
and may determine or will to visit it again at some 
future time. Mental philosophy, therefore, embraces 
an account of the principles which pertain to all three 
of these classes of phenomena, while intellectual philoso- 
phy properly takes cognizance of those only which per- 
tain to the intelligence, or knowledge. 
© 7 © 

4. Definition of intellect. — The term intellect, then, 
designates merely the intelligent or knowing principle 
of the mind, and even this more emphatically in its 
higher capacities and operations. By the intellect of 
man we understand more specifically his powers of com- 
paring, judging, and reasoning; less definitely, his pow r - 
ers of perceiving, remembering, and imagining. Still, 
as intelligence is the primary, and by far the most im- 
portant, function of the mind, the intellect is often used, 

3. As the mind acts through the body, its manifestations are depend- 
ent upon the condition of the body, and cease when that becomes an 
unfit instrument for its use. The operations of the mind, too, affect the 
body, and not unfrequently strain and impair its condition, — some- 
what, we may suppose, as the steam strains and impairs the engine in 
which it works. — Another term for mental philosophy is psychology , " the 
doctrine of the soul." 



14 INTRODUCTION. 

in a general way, to denote the mind as a whole, as an 
independent nature. 

5. Definition of understanding and reason. — The 
terms understanding and reason, also, are used in a simi- 
lar sense. Locke's " Treatise on the Human Under- 
standing " is intended to embrace an account of all the 
operations of the mind, from sensation and perception 
upwards; though more properly the term represents the 
mind as comparing, comprehending, and elaborating 
ideas, rather than as simply receiving and retaining 
them. So, too, the reason is often put for the mind as 
a whole, though strictly the term designates only the 
very highest processes of the mind. The reason is the 
faculty of reasoning, and judging of the validity of 
proofs ; and hence stands equally opposed to the recep- 
tivity of sense and the excitability of passion. Indeed, 
reason is the grand distinguishing faculty of man, who 
is called a rational animal, in distinction from all others. 

6. Definition of consciousness. — There is another 
term which is used to designate the different operations 
of the mind as a whole, — consciousness. Or, rather, 
consciousness is the knowledge which we have of all 
our mental acts, and of every affection within our or- 
ganism that reaches the mind. Every distinct act of 
the mind, whether it be of knowing, feeling, or willing, 
is a conscious act. Consciousness is internal knowledge. 
Denoting, according to its derivation ( u knowing to- 
gether "), associated knowledge, it is not commonly 
regarded as including fugitive thoughts, which flit by 
unnoticed, and hence unconnected with other thoughts. 
And, being internal knowledge, we cannot properly be 

5. For a fuller account of the applications of the terms intellect, un- 
derstanding, and reason, see Wight's Hamilton, pp. 79, and following. 



INTRODUCTION. 15 

said to be conscious of external objects, though we are 
conscious of the operations of the mind by which we 
gain a knowledge of these objects, as well as of all 
other operations of the mind. Indeed, it is of the very 
nature of mental action, as distinguished from mechani- 
cal or chemical action, that it is conscious. Conscious- 
ness, then, is the essential characteristic of mental action, 
and inseparable from it. 

7. The different faculties of knowledge. — But the 
mind, though one, in obtaining knowledge acts through 
special forms, or by special faculties : such as perception 
by the senses, by which we obtain a knowledge of ex- 
ternal objects ; memory, by which we recall past experi- 
ences; imagination, by which we figure to ourselves 
objects like what we have perceived by the senses ; con- 
ception, judgment, and reasoning, by which we general- 
ize and combine our primary ideas, and enlarge our 
knowledge. These faculties are all regarded as capaci- 
ties for doing something, and hence are often called 
powers, or energies. 

8. Definition of speculation. — In addition to the 
above-named special faculties, we have the power of 
speculation, or of scrutinizing the materials of knowl- 
edge obtained by these faculties, and detecting their 
subtle relations, and the general ideas or notions which 
they imply, and which underlie them as their conditions 
or foundation. We find, upon reflection, that all the 
objects of our knowledge imply the existence of space 
and time, and necessarily arrange themselves in our 

6. Consciousness is not to be regarded as a special faculty taking 
cognizance of the operations of the other faculties ; but the realization 
rather of those operatious themselves, or the sum of those operations as 
realized by us. The mind acts consciously, if at all : its action is neces- 
sarily conscious action. 



16 INTRODUCTION. 

mind under the relations of substance and attribute, 
cause and effect, means and end, and the like. The 
detection and establishment of these and the like funda- 
mental principles assumed in all thinking constitute 
what is called speculative philosophy, or metaphysics. 

9. Office of feeling and willing. — It only remains to 
point out more definitely the particular office of our ca- 
pacities of feeling and willing. These, as the immedi- 
ate antecedents and prompters to action, constitute the 
special basis of ethics, or moral philosophy. Intelligence, 
to be sure, is the guide, or should be the guide, to action ; 
but feeling and will are the immediate impulse to it, 
without which it is impossible for it to exist. Right ac- 
tion is the right application and carrying out in practice 
of our best thoughts and feelings and volitions : it is 
thus the proper and fitting result of the exercise of all 
our conscious capacities and powers. 

9. A capacity is a capability, first of becoming something, and then of 
doing something. Feeling, therefore, is but a passive capacity ; but the 
will, even if it be necessarily determined by the strongest motive, as 
being capable of appreciating motives, should be regarded rather as a 
power. — Perhaps it will be thought that instinct should be named as an 
additional faculty of knowledge. But instinct belongs almost wholly 
to the lower animals; and, besides, is merely an internal impulse, result- 
ing from the organization of the animal, and not properly a faculty of 
knowledge : indeed, it operates quite independently of knowledge, and is 
not at all improved by knowledge. The first acts of the young of all 
animals, and even of human infants, are instinctive. But while man 
governs, or is capable of governing, his later acts by intelligence, the 
acts of the lower animals remain chiefly instinctive, being but slightly 
controlled by the results of experience. Young quails and rabbits run 
through bushes, avoiding all obstacles, and young ducks swim, as well 
at first as in later life. And although the feats of instinct have often 
been exaggerated, yet the principle is sufficient for the wants of the ani- 
mal. Man alone, by his wonderful powers of progress, seems destined 
for a future life. 



INTRODUCTION. 17 

10. Divisions of the subject. — From this account of 
the different operations of the mind, we see at once 
the natural divisions of the subject. Following the 
order and distinguishing the nature of the several pro- 
cesses and their results, we have, 1st, Simple or concrete 
knowledge, embracing consciousness, perception by the 
senses, memory, and imagination ; 2d, Generalized or 
abstract knowledge, embracing conception, judgment, 
and reasoning; 3d, Speculative knowledge, or meta- 
physics ; and 4th, Ethics, or knowledge carried out in 
practice through the impulse of the feelings and of the 
will. A complete treatise, therefore, on mental philoso- 
phy, would embrace these four divisions, or parts. In 
concrete knowledge, the mind deals with individual ob- 
jects or things ; in abstract knowledge it deals with 
combinations or classes of things; in speculative knowl- 
edge it searches after underlying principles and rela- 
tions ; while, in the applications of knowledge to prac- 
tice, it deals with the principles of right and wrong in 
action. As to Lome, which treats of the right use of 
the concept and the judgment in reasoning, it naturally 
falls under the second of the above divisions. 

11. Philosophy and science. — Philosophy and science, 
though dealing with the same general materials, are not 
entirely coincident. The philosophy of any thing is a 
rational account of it, or a general explanation of phe- 
nomena by referring them to certain causes or funda- 
mental principles ; while science is a detailed and sys- 
tematic proof and establishment of the causes of such 
phenomena. Philosophy, being strictly the result of 
the pursuit of knowledge for its own sake, properly 
investigates only such matters as naturally arrest the 
attention, and hence is confined to the general underly- 



18 INTRODUCTION. 

ing principles of things. Science, on the contrary, aims 
at an exhaustive exhibition and verification of the truth 
on any subject. Hence the operations of the mind, as 
naturally arresting the attention of every one, and as 
fundamental to every thing else, are the proper and 
special subject of philosophy. 



CHAPTER I. 

CONSCIOUSNESS. 

SECTION I. 
NATURE OP CONSCIOUSNESS. 

1. Consciousness defined. — Consciousness has been 
described as knowing that we know. It is also know- 
ing that we feel and will and act. It is primarily a 
knowledge of any affection of our nervous system, or 
any impression made upon it through either of the five 
senses of seeing, hearing, touching, tasting, or smelling. 
We are thus conscious of all sensations and sense-per- 
ceptions ; and we are equally conscious of these sensa- 
tions and perceptions when they recur to us in memory 
or imagination. So too, when we combine these per- 
ceptions and reason upon them, or form plans of action 
and exert our wills or our muscles to carry them out, 
we are equally conscious of what we are doing. Con- 
sciousness accompanies every intelligent act, whether 
external or internal : it is, indeed, those acts realized ; it 
is the mind acting in them. 

2. Impressions upon the senses and internal action of 
which we are not conscious. — But may there not be 
external or internal action in the organs or limbs which 
does not reach the mind, and hence is unaccompanied 

19 



20 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

by consciousness ? The senses undoubtedly may be so 
closed in sleep that the usual causes of sensation and 
perception do not reach the mind, or awaken any mental 
apprehension. The attention, too, may be so absorbed 
in some matter, even during our waking hours, that we 
are not conscious of ordinary impressions upon the 
senses. The senses, being at rest in sleep, are in a torpid 
condition, and do not receive and transmit impressions 
as they do when awake ; and in the other case, the 
mind, being wholly absorbed in one thing, pays no atten- 
tion to any other. So, too, the processes of circulation, 
appropriation, secretion, and the other internal functions 
of life, are generally unaccompanied by consciousness. 
These changes being necessary for the preservation of 
the system, are intrusted to the superintendence of the 
vital principle, leaving the mind free to perforin its own 
work. 

3. Effect of habit in obscuring consciousness. — There 



2. We call a sound sleep a " deep sleep," as though the soul had with- 
drawn far from the surface. Sometimes, on our attention being relieved 
from its absorption, we recall an impression, as the striking of a clock, 
which we did not seem to notice at the time ; or else we now first become 
conscious of it from the impression on the organ still remaining, the sound, 
as we say, still " ringing in the ear." So the eye retains the impression 
a longer or shorter time after the cause is removed, as is proved by the 
ring of light which is seen when a torch is whirled rapidly around. 
Vital action, i.e. the action necessary to preserve the system from decay 
and death, is always involuntary, but not necessarily unconscious. We 
are conscious of all our external involuntary motions, such as sneezing, 
winking, starting at a sudden noise, and the like ; and of some of the 
internal involuntary changes, as of respirations, the beating of the heart, 
&c. Thus the vital principle is not wholly an unconscious principle : 
and it is also a plastic or formative principle ; since, under its influence, 
animal bodies are formed by organs and limbs, after a fixed type. It is 
evidently no mere mechanical or chemical principle, but should be re- 
garded as the lowest form or beginnings of mind. 



CONSCIOUSNESS. 21 

is another class of actions apparently unaccompanied by 
consciousness, and which many regard as really so, — 
those that have been often repeated and are performed 
from habit ; such as taking a familiar walk, repeating a 
familiar piece of composition, or playing a familiar tune. 
Each of these and the like processes consists of a 
series of external acts or motions, which at first are per- 
formed with the greatest attention and care, but which, 
by frequent repetition, have become so familiar that they 
require but little or no attention, and seem almost invol- 
untary. And yet they do not appear to be wholly un- 
conscious acts; for the performer of the most familiar 
piece on the piano will notice a misplaced note in the 
music before him, and the drowsy fiddler, whose arm 
appears to move automatically, will stop the moment 
the dancing ceases. Habit, as we say, is a second na- 
ture ; and as we have seen that nature relieves the mind 
by devolving certain constant and laborious operations 
upon the vital principle, so habit seems to effect something 
ot the same result. When processes have become familiar, 
they seem to be remitted very much to the unconscious 
reflex action of our nervous system. 

4. Consciousness is co-extensive with knowledge. — 
Consciousness meaning "knowing together," or, as some 
interpret it, " knowing again " (knowing that we know), 
it may be inquired whether any of our thoughts are 
wholly unconnected with other thoughts, and thus escape 
consciousness. There would seem to be nothing improba- 



3. Hamilton, following Leibnitz, refers such acts as are here described 
to the operation of latent mental modifications, through which the mind 
is supposed to act unconsciously in directing the external movements. 
Stewart, on the contrary, regards such acts as strictly intelligent acts, 
but so slightly attended to as scarcely to be realized. 



22 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

ble in the supposition that there may be thoughts pass- 
ing so rapidly, and so little attended to, as to bring with 
them no other thoughts, and hence to be wholly isolated 
and fugitive. But, whether there actually are such 
thoughts or not, we can never be certain, since, not being 
connected with any other thought, they can never be 
recalled. They are at most but momentary thoughts, 
serving a temporary purpose, and then passing into ob- 
livion. To know any thing distinctly, we must note or 
attend to it with some care ; and, when we do thus 
attend to any thing, other things are usually observed 
with it, or other thoughts come into the mind, and are 
associated with it. Hence all real knowledge must be 
conscious knowledge. Fugitive knowledge is but sub- 
knowledge, and is, therefore, but partially conscious : 
the consciousness however, at the moment, is just as 
clear and distinct as the knowledge is. 

5. Is the mind continually conscious? — As we have 
seen that consciousness accompanies, or rather is in- 
volved in, all real mental action , the question arises, 
whether the mind is always active, and hence continu- 
ouslv conscious. If not, what evidence have we of the 
continuous existence of the mind ? Consciousness being 
the special property under which the mind becomes 
know r n, if it lose this, it is said, it loses its identity, just 
as matter would lose its identity if it ceased to be ex- 
tended. It is true that the mind manifests itself through 
consciousness ; but these manifestations in turn are made 
through the body, and must depend, therefore, upon the 
condition of the body as a medium for spiritual manifes- 
tations. On the death of the body, these manifestations 
wholly cease within their accustomed sphere ; and so 
they may during certain torpid states of the body, with- 



CONSCIOUSNESS. 23 

out implying the non-existence of the soul. Indeed, it 
is not certain that there is not, or rather it is highly 
probable that there is, during all these torpid states of 
the body, an internal current of consciousness constant- 
ly in existence. We all know that one may train him- 
self so as to keep a correct account of the passage of time 
in sleep, and awake at a definite" hour ; and, even in the 
deepest sleep, the subject, by ejaculations and other signs, 
often indicates the existence of consciousness. The 
same thing is shown by the phenomena of dreams. As 
certain vivid dreams arouse us sufficiently to become 
connected with our ordinary waking current of thought, 
and hence are remembered, we may well suppose that 
there is constantly going on in sleep a less vivid but 
continuous dream-life which is not remembered. 

6. Consciousness not precisely the same as knowledge. 
— Thouo'h consciousness is involved in all knowledge, 
yet it is not precisely the same as knowledge. Knowl- 
edge resolves itself into perception, memory, imagina- 

5. The dream- life seems to be directed wholly by the ideas present to 
the mind, without the control of the will. This is seen especially in that 
kind of dreaming called somnambulism, or w r alking and performing vari- 
ous external acts in sleep. The dreamer is wholly absorbed in a certain 
current of thoughts, and pays no attention to any thing else while the 
spell lasts. And for the same reason, if the bystander can get his atten- 
tion, he can direct his acts to almost any thing which he suggests ; and 
he will go through the performance, whatever it be. But, when the sub- 
ject comes out of this state, he has no remembrance of what he has 
been doing; and yet, when he relapses into a similar state, the former 
ideas and acts may be resumed. The two different states of life, having 
nothing in common, do not suggest each other, but are each pursued in- 
dependently of the other. Mesmeric phenomena are probably due to a sim- 
ilar state of the system induced by the manipulations or suggestions of 
the operator in highly-nervous persons. See Marshall's Physiology, 
p. 317. 



24 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

tion, conception, judgment, and reasoning. These are 
all regarded as processes leading to certain results which 
constitute knowledge. Now, we are conscious of every 
step taken in each of these processes, and also of the 
result as an internal fact, but not of the thing embraced 
in the result. As we are conscious of all that trans- 
pires within us in the process of perceiving a tree, and 
of our conviction that it exists, but not of the tree itself; 
so we are conscious of all the steps taken in the process 
of proving that the three angles of a triangle are equal 
to two right angles, and also of our conviction of the 
truth of the proposition, and yet are not properly con- 
scious of the truth itself. This last is knowledge, or a 
conclusion to which we have come for reasons which 
seemed to us satisfactory. 

7. Consciousness is no authority for abstract truths or 
the reality of things. — Hence we see that consciousness 
cannot be appealed to for the truth of abstract proposi- 
tions or the reality of independent existences. It deals 
only with internal facts. It cannot be mistaken in regard 
to the phenomena which transpire within : but it does not 
profess to interpret these phenomena ; this it leaves to 
our various faculties of knowledge. In the various illu- 
sions of vision, as in mirage, consciousness reports cor- 
rectly what is presented in the organ ; but we come to 
interpret them rightly only by the knowledge which we 
acquire through investigation and experience : and, as 
all apparent facts must be interpreted by our rational 
powers, so must all general truths be tested by these 
powers. Consciousness, then, is no authority for the 
reality of the external world, nor for the truth of gen- 
eral propositions. And, in like manner, it is no direct 



CONSCIOUSNESS. 25 

authority for the existence of a separate spiritual nature 
in man. It is an evidence of the existence of such a 
nature in us, as all our powers are ; but it reports noth- 
ing in regard to such a nature, except certain acts and 
states which seem to imply its existence, and from 
which we infer it. 

8. Confirmation of the above view. — The view ex- 
pressed in the last paragraph is quite different from that 
very generally held, and formerly entertained, by myself. 
But, on further reflection, I do not see how the doctrine 
of an immediate consciousness of external objects, or of 
general truths, or of our own spiritual nature, can be 
maintained. Can we be said to be conscious of a tree ? to 
be conscious that the whole of any thing is greater than 
a part of it? or to be conscious of the nature of the soul, 
or of its existence distinct from the body? Even Ham- 
ilton, who held the first two of these doctrines, if not 
the third, usually avoids such expressions, as evidently 
incongruous and incorrect. " In the act of sensible 
perception," his language is, " I am conscious of my- 
self as a perceiving subject, and of an external reality ', in 
relation with my sense, as the object perceived" Yes, in 
the act of perception, or through perception, one becomes 
thus conscious : the process of perception brings him 
this knowledge of which he is conscious. Perception is 
a process and a conclusion as to what is implied in it ; 
and we are conscious of the process and the conclusion, 
but not of the things implied. So we cannot properly 
be said to be conscious that the whole of a thing is 
greater than any of its parts ; but our judgment or rea- 
son decides that it is so, and we are conscious of the 
decision. Consciousness reports the experience and the 



26 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

conclusions of the mind ; nothing more. In like manner, 
we infer the existence of a spiritual nature within us 
on account of certain phenomena of intelligence which 
seem to us plainly to imply it, not because we are 
directly conscious of that nature. 

It is obvious that consciousness is not a special power 
of any kind, whether of knowing, feeling, or willing. 
We neither know nor feel nor will by consciousness ; 
though we are conscious alike of all these operations. 
It is, then, merely a quality of mental action, the dis- 
tinguishing characteristic of it. But, the mind being a 
conscious principle, it is often convenient to use the term 
" consciousness" for the mind as a whole ; as where we 
speak of the concentration of consciousness, instead of 
the concentration of the powers of the mind itself. 

SECTION II. 
CONCENTRATION OF CONSCIOUSNESS (ATTENTION AND REFLECTION.) 

1. What attention is. — Attention is a special concen- 
tration of consciousness upon some particular object, 
process, phenomenon, or passing event. When we 
give ourselves up to the influence of what is passing 
around us, without endeavoring to control our thoughts 
or feelings, there is no special exercise of attention. 
In such cases, there is barely the ordinary wakefulness 
of the mental powers, such as is secured to each ob- 
ject in turn, by the varying interest which they excite 
in the mind in its different moods. But the moment 
we make an effort to apply ourselves to any particular 
business or study, our consciousness is more or less 
concentrated on that, to the exclusion of other things ; 



CONSCIOUSNESS. 27 

and in the highest concentration of consciousness, every 
thing is excluded from the mind except the matter im- 
mediately under consideration. 

2. Attention carries the whole mind with it. — As the 
acts of the mind are only conscious acts, and as, indeed, 
we know the mind only in its conscious acts, when the 
consciousness is specially concentrated upon any ob- 
ject, the whole mind is virtually concentrated upon it. 
Hence, when attention to any thing is complete, we 
are wholly absorbed in it, and are as incapable, while 
the concentration lasts, of any other intelligent process, 
be it perceiving, remembering, or reasoning, as though 
we had no mind. By attention, then, the whole mind 
is turned to some object, with the faculty, or faculties, 
required in the case, in the highest degree of wakeful- 
ness, and in readiness to exert themselves. 

3. How far the attention is under the control of the 
will, — The special concentration of consciousness, 
called attention, is effected by the will, and hence the 
attention is said to be under the control of the will. 
This it undoubtedly is to a certain extent, but not ab- 
solutely. We can at any time, by an act of the will, 
concentrate our attention upon an object, but we can- 
not always, by an act of the will, keep it so concen- 
trated, against the intrusion of wandering thoughts and 
the diverting influences of passing events. Hence the 
attention, after it has been concentrated on any object, 
is liable at any moment to be diverted. The will, 
doubtless, may resist these influences to a certain ex- 
tent, but not to all extents, — they may become so pow- 
erful as to be irresistible. Here, then, are indicated the 
chief points to which we should direct our efforts in 
attempting to increase our control over the attention. 



28 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

4. To control the attention we should always act with 
a will. — In the first place, then, we should cultivate 
resoluteness of purpose and persistence of will in con- 
trolling the attention. We should form a settled pur- 
pose of acquiring as complete control over our atten- 
tion, and hence over our faculties generally, as possible. 
When we turn our attention to any thing, we should 
do so with the determination of holding it there to the 
end, if possible, against all distracting influences. We 
should make it a point to resist to the utmost all such 
influences. We shquld be resolute and in earnest in 
all that we do, working in all cases under a strong ten- 
sion of the will. Such a course will greatly increase 
the power of the will over the attention amid distracting 
influences. 

5. We should cultivate orderly habits of thought^ etc. 
— Besides, these disturbing influences themselves may 
be very much diminished and controlled by proper in- 
ternal habits and external arrangements. Wandering 
and intrusive thoughts come chiefly of desultory habits 
of thinking. Our minds are formed for regular and 
coherent thought. In the natural order, one thought 
leads to another by a regular succession. In memory, 
reasoning, and all the fundamental processes of thought, 
one step almost necessarily follows another in a given 
order, in a well-regulated mind. To exclude wander- 
ing thoughts, then, we have only to follow, and confirm 
in our practice, the order of nature as to the connection 
of our thoughts. We should persistently discipline 
ourselves to think in a connected order, and thus curb 
the erratic and capricious action of the imagination. 
So, too, we may protect ourselves very much against 
the disturbing influences of external objects by proper 



CONSCIOUSNESS. 29 

external arrangements. When we engage in anything 
requiring close attention, we should not leave ourselves 
at the mercy of any one often thousand influences, by 
undertaking it in the midst of the distractions of busi- 
ness, of society, or even of the family circle. All the 
more difficult and protracted mental efforts require re- 
tirement. Thus, and thus only, can the attention be 
preserved long enough to carry them through. 

6. We should so order our occupations that surround- 
ing influences may promote attention to them. — Another 
means of controlling our attention is, so to order our 
pursuits, as to always have something for our chief 
object of attention, of such a nature that the surround- 
ing influences will tend to promote its prosecution, or 
at least not be adverse to it. As we should think, in- 
vestigate principles, and examine books in the study 
so we should study human nature in society, works of 
art in travel, and objects of Nature out among her 
works. Thus the mind will always be kept wakeful, 
and exert itself to the best advantage. 

7. Reflection as distinguished from attention. — Thus 
much of attention. And the same applies to Reflec- 
tion, which is merely attention directed to mental phe- 
nomena. Or more strictly, reflection is attention di- 
rected to some truth, principle, mental state or act, for 
the purpose of re-examining it. As a mere passing 
phenomenon, a mental act, or state, is more commonly 
spoken of as an object of attention, — as when we say 
to one, " Attend now to what is passing in your mind." 
But when we think of the act again, and examine its 
character, it is properly called reflection. 

8. No extended remarks needed on reflection. — As all 
that has been said of attention, and the means of im- 



30 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

proving it, applies equally to reflection, it need only be 
added here, that the power of reflection is particularly 
required in psychological studies. Psychology rests 
wholly on the observed facts of consciousness; and 
hence, the whole success of the student of this science 
depends upon his power of internal observation, — 
upon his ability to seize upon and examine the delicate 
machinery and fleeting thoughts of his own mind. It 
is a power not easily acquired ; but, difficult of acquisi- 
tion as it is, it may be gradually gained by persevering 
efforts. And a power so valuable will abundantly re- 
pay all the effort which it costs. 



CHAPTER II. 

SENSE-PERCEPTION. 



SECTION I. 



SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. 



1. Sensations and feelings. — In the experience of 
life, we are conscious of various feelings, or sensations, in 
our organs. We have a highly delicate and sensitive 
nervous system, having its centre in the head, and branch- 
ing out from the brain and through the spinal cord to all 
parts of the body. Whatever change or affection takes 
place in any part of this system is apprehended by the 
mind, and constitutes what is called a sensation, or feel- 
ing. When these affections take place in the nerves 
connected with either of the five senses, they are appre- 
hended through the perceptions of that sense. These 
sense-affections alone are what are more commonly 
called sensations, as being the regular antecedents of 
perceptions. But, besides these, there are numerous 
other affections of the nervous system usually denomi- 
nated feelings, — such as those connected with the pro- 
cesses of circulation and digestion, the healthy or un- 
healthy action of the lungs, the stomach, and the heart, 
called organic feelings ; and the various muscular feel- 
ings, arising from any change, exertion, injury, or dis- 
ease, of the muscles. Indeed, the nervous system so 

31 



32 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

thoroughly pervades the body in all its parts, that scarce- 
ly any change can take place in any part of the body 
without our being conscious of it. 

2. The stimulus and the character of the different sen- 
sations. — The stimulus which excites the sensations in 
the organs of the senses proper is partly mechanical, and 
partly chemical. In touch, hearing, and sight, the action 
upon the organ seems to be mechanical ; and in taste and 
smell it is probably chemical. But, whatever the stimu- 
lus, if it be too powerful it interferes with perception. 
The sensation should be strong enough to arouse the 
mind : if too strong, it distracts and confuses it. Hence 
it has become a maxim, " That the energy of perception 
in any of the senses is inversely as the intensity of the 
sensation." The sensation in the different senses may 
be briefly described thus : In hearing, it is the conscious- 
ness of an agitation or ringing in the ear ; in taste and 
smell, it is the consciousness of a stinging, quickening, 
soothing, or the like impression, on the tongue or in the 
nostrils ; in sight, it is the consciousness of a pictured 
outline projected upon the retina of the eye ; and in 
touch, it is the consciousness of a smooth, rough, yield- 
ing, or resisting object in contact with some part of the 
surface of the body. 

1. Feeling is the more internal sensation connected with the sense of 
touch, arising from some internal action, or from pressure, disease, and 
the like. Touch, unlike the other senses, is a general sense. The nerves 
of touch, or feeling, pervade the whole body, — even the special organs of 
the other senses. 

2. We are not, it is true, directly conscious of the retina, or of its 
position in the organ, any more than we arc of the position or action of 
the other nerves at any point between the surface and the centre in the 
brain ; nor, indeed, of the brain itself, in ordinary perception. Con- 
sciousness directly reveals nothing of the nature of the nervous system 
beyond certain affections, which, in the senses proper, always appear to 



SENSE-PERCEPTION. 33 

3. Sensations are referred to the localities ivhere the 
affections actually are. — All our sensations and feelings 
appear to us to be each in that part of our organism or 
body where the affection really is. Thus any disturb- 
ance in the brain — as from over-exertion, disease, or too 
great a supply of blood to that organ — is realized by a 
pain, or some other unpleasant feeling, in the head ; and 
a disease in the stomach is attended with uneasiness in 
that organ ; while a cut or bruise in any part of the 
body is felt where it is made. And the same is true 
of the sensations in the nerves connected with the sev- 
eral senses : they are all realized at the surface where 
the impressions are made ; as a smell in the nostrils, 
a taste on the tongue, a sound in the ear, and a touch 
on some part of the skin. In vision, however, while 
there may be some feeling realized in the eye, color, the 
special sensation of this sense, seems projected outside of 
the organ to the object which is seen ; but this, as we 
shall presently see, is the result of experience. 

be at the surface. Dissection alone discloses the internal structure of 
the system ; and it was not till the time of Descartes that the retina was 
discovered by John Baptist Porta. — See Porter's Human Intellect, 
■p. 227. But it is well known that persons born blind, and afterwards re- 
stored to sight, at first regard the colored object, which is seen, not at a 
distance, but on or in the eye ; showing that our original consciousness in 
this, as in the other senses, locates the affection at the surface. And that 
the image is within the eye is proved by taking out the eye of an ox, and 
holding it before an object; when its. image will be seen on the retina in 
the back part of the organ. 

3. The science of pathology would be impossible if sensations did 
not appear to be where the affection or disturbance really is. Without 
this, there could be no diagnosis nor application of remedies in diseases. 
Possibly the reference of sensations and feelings to their real place may 
be the result of experience. When external, our other senses help us 
locate them ; and, when internal, the feeling in many cases may extend 
to the nearest surface, or its place be determined by local pressure. 



34 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

4. But sensations must be apprehended by the mind at 
the centre of the organism. — And yet it is certain that 
all these sensations must be apprehended by the mind 
at the centre of the organism in the brain. This is 
plainly indicated by the very structure of the nervous 
system. In each of the senses the nerves and their 
branches run in pairs from the surface to the brain 
directly, or else indirectly to it through the spinal cord. 
And it is found that one of these pairs in each case, 
called the afferent, bears to the brain the stimulus which 
excites the sense at the surface ; and the other, called 
the efferent, contracts at the bidding of the will, in order 
to produce any motion which may be required in the 
case. This is proved by the fact, established by Sir 
Charles Bell, that if the root of the afferent nerve (i.e., 
the anterior root of each pair) near its interior termina- 
tion — where its fibres are separate, and not interlaced 
with those of the efferent, as they are in its branches — 
be cut across, all sensation in the parts to which its rami- 
fications extend ceases ; while the power of motion 
ceases in those parts when the other root is severed. 
And again : if the anterior root, while still connected 
with the brain, be pinched or irritated in any way near 
its interior termination, a sensation of pain is produced ; 
while the other root, under the same conditions and treat- 
ment, contracts. Thus the susceptibility of sensation 
and motion in the nerves, which may be traced up from 
the surface to the centre, is found to cease the moment 
they are severed from that centre. The conclusion is 
inevitable, that the real source of that susceptibility or 
power is some way connected with the brain ; and 
many other things suggest the same conclusion. 

5. While the mind occupies the centre of the organism, 



SENSE-PERCEPTION. 35 

it commands the whole. — The mind, then, must occu- 
py the centre of the organism in the brain. Here, evi- 
dently, is the original susceptibility and power. It is 
here that what in the ear is a mere agitation becomes 
a sound ; that what upon the tongue or in the nostrils 
is merely the chemical action of some foreign substance 
taken into the mouth, or drawn into the nose by the 
inspiration of the breath, becomes an agreeable or dis- 
agreeable taste or odor ; that impressions upon the skin 
of the hand and other parts of the body become the 
signs of form and extension ; and that different quanti- 
ties and qualities of light distributed upon the retina of 
the eye are transformed into the pictured landscape 
which we behold. These are not the works of matter. 
Matter may produce mechanical changes : only mind 
can make such transformations as these. 

But the mind, though it occupies the centre of the 
organism, evidently traverses or commands the whole. 
Through the nervous system, it holds, as we may say, 
telegraphic communication with all its parts, receiving 
and returning despatches to every organ and limb. The 
w T hole system is animated by the mind, and becomes its 
special sphere, of which it seems to be directly conscious 
in all its parts. The body thus becomes the microcosm 
of the human spirit, as the universe is the macrocosm of 
the Divine Spirit. 

6. Through sensations external to each other the mind 



5. The reference of the sensations excited by irritating the extremi- 
ties of the nerves of an amputated arm to the fingers of the hand may 
be supposed to be the result of habit, such sensations having been fre- 
quently realized there before by the mind. They are recognized as sen- 
sations of the same character as those formerly realized in the hand, and 
hence are located there. 



36 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

apprehends the body as extended. — The mind, then, 
realizes the various sensations in all parts of the body. 
And, what it is important to observe, these sensations all 
appear out of each other. They do not reveal them- 
selves as all in the same place, but as occupying different 
locations ; and they seem so, undoubtedly, because they 
are so. At any rate, through the mutual external- 
ity of our sensations to each other, we apprehend our 
bodies, in which these various sensations are realized, as 
extended objects. The body being visible to our eyes, 
and tangible to our hands, admitting of the motion of 
the eyes and of the hands over its surface, possessed 
itself of locomotive powers, and pervaded in all its parts 
by life and conscious action, can but be apprehended by 
us as an extended object. The mind connects the here 
and the there of which we are conscious through our 
experience of sensations, and putting together the differ- 
ent organs, parts, and limbs which it has traversed, 
makes out a rounded whole, which it objectifies and 
apprehends as an object distinct from itself. The mind 
thus first perceives its own enclosing organism as ex- 
tended and external to itself. Sensations have been" 
transformed into a perception. 

6. Perception, it will be seen, is an active process of the mind ; while 
sensation is but a passive process. Perception gathers up, connects, and 
interprets sensations, supplying what is implied in them and thus mak- 
ing up the notion of an object. The term perception is used to signify 
both the act of doing this, and the power of doing it; and also the idea 
attained by the process, or the mental representation which we form of 
the object perceived ; though this last is more properly called a percept. 
And, further, the term perception is frequently used to denote any men- 
tal apprehension ; as when we say, " I perceive the point/' " I perceive the 
truth," and the like. But, since the time of Ileid, the term perception 
has come to mean almost wholly sense-perception. — In the language of 



SENSE-PERCEPTION. 37 

7. It then learns to distinguish other objects from the 
body. — The mind now knows its own body as extended 
and external to itself. How early in life the soul learns 
this is uncertain : but it must quite early learn to distin- 
guish the body, not only from itself, but from other things ; 
for, until it knows this, other objects must appear merely 
as affections of the body itself. Their presence or contact 
with any of the senses would at first seem to be but sensa- 
tions in the organs of sense. Not yet being able to 
judge of distance by sight, external objects would appear 
to this sense only as pictured on or in the eye ; while to 
touch they would appear as but more or less deep sen- 
sations in different parts of the body ; and to smell and 
taste and hearing they would seem only as more or less 
pungent or thrilling feelings in the nose, on the tono-uc, 
or in the ear. Thus, in infant life, the world is all within. 
But experience rapidly enlarges this world. The child, 
laying one hand upon the other, and then upon its moth- 
er's breast, is conscious, indeed, of feeling in both cases ; 
but in the first he is conscious also of being felt. So he 
soon finds that the free motion of his hands is resisted 
and arrested ; and by moving in different directions, and 
grasping objects which lie in his way, he early comes to 
distinguish himself from other things, and to project the 
picture-world in which he has thus far lived outside of 
himself to an outward world actually existing in space. 

metaphysics, the perceiving mind is called the subject, while that which 
it perceives is called the object. To " objectify " the body, therefore, is 
to view it apart from our spiritual nature as a distinct object. 

7. It is not pretended, of course, that this is the precise process by 
which we learn to distinguish ourselves from external objects. The ex- 
perience by which this is learned will differ in different cases; but in all 
cases it must be accomplished through experience, and, very naturally, 
would be accomplished through some such experience as that described 
above. 



38 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

8. We next distinguish various qualities in external 
objects. — Having thus learned to distinguish other ob- 
jects from ourselves, we by degrees learn various things 
about these objects. By attempting to move against or 
through them, or by coming into collision with them, 
we learn that they resist in different degrees our power of 
motion, and call them hard or soft, according to the degree 
of their resistance ; and, since in such contact or collision 
they affect more or less extended portions of the body, 
we infer that they also are extended. And, in grasping 
or moving the hand over them, we discover that they 
have form ; or we place some of them in the mouth, 
or snuff in particles thrown off from others, or receive 
in the ear agitations caused in the air by vibrations in 
others, and thus learn that they have the power of pro- 
ducing in us the sensations of taste, of smell, or of sound. 
In this way we learn more or less of the qualities of the 
different objects around us, and from these form our 
notion or idea or mental representation of each. Such 
a notion, embracing the qualities of an individual object, 
is called a percept. 

9. Primary and secondary qualities of objects. — The 
qualities of objects thus apprehended have usually been 
divided into two classes, — primary and secondary quali- 
ties. The primary qualities are extension, and the sub- 
ordinate qualities implied in it, as divisibility, size, den- 
sity or rarity, impenetrability, and figure. The second- 
ary qualities are the assumed causes of certain sensations 
or affections in our organism known as resistance or 
pressure, color, sound, flavor, savor, heat, electrical and 
galvanic effects. While these are apprehended as mere 
sensations in our organism, they are supposed to be 
caused by corresponding qualities in objects, which, 



SENSE-PERCEPTION. 39 

therefore, usually bear the same names as the sensa- 
tions ; though the term caloric is sometimes used for 
the cause of the sensation of heat, and hardness is re- 
garded as the cause of resistance, or pressure. The 
primary qualities, however, are not apprehended as mere 
sensations in us, but as having a real objective existence 
in bodies, and as essential to their very nature. They 
are apprehensions of the mind, reached, it is true, through 
sensations, but of an entirely different and a far higher 
character. Indeed, the apprehension of extension in 
objects is the chief intellectual element in perception. 

10. Objects are not directly apprehended by conscious- 
ness. — From the preceding account of the process of 
perception, it will readily be inferred that the doctrine 
of an immediate intuition or apprehension of external 
objects through consciousness is abandoned. As we are 
directly conscious of the sensations or affections of our 
own organism, we may perhaps be said to be conscious 
of this as an object. But the existence of any thing 
beyond and outside of this is an inference, made, indeed, 
on the most satisfactory grounds, but yet an inference, 
not a direct apprehension of consciousness. Hamilton's 
statement on this point is briefly this : " In this case " 
(i.e., of the free motion of a limb being evidently arrested 
by some external object) " I cannot be conscious of 

9. I can see no good reason for regarding resistance and the subordi- 
nate qualities involved in it as partaking of the nature of both the pri- 
mary and secondary qualities, and. hence constituting the so-called, inter- 
mediate class of qualities, called by Hamilton secundo-primary qualities. 
Pressure, or the consciousness of resistance to our locomotion, is but a 
subjective feeling, realized in the organism. It is merely the sign of 
something external, not the perception of it ; a, ground of inferring the 
presence of the external object, a little more conclusive, perhaps, than 
other sensations, but not at all different in nature. 



40 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

myself as the resisted relative without at the same time 
being conscious, being immediately percipient, of a not- 
self as the resisting correlative." Yes, " immediately 
percipient," perhaps ; or rather, I would say, indirectly 
percipient of it through an inference, but not conscious 
of it. Consciousness is not the same as knowledge. 
One may be conscious that he is resisted, and that the 
resistance does not come from within himself ; but he 
can only know by inference (not by consciousness) that 
he is resisted from without. — See chap. i. sect. i. 6 
and 7. 

11. Perception, then, is far from a simple process. — 
Perception, then, is by no means a simple direct act. 
It is not simply receiving through the senses what is 
presented to them. In its largest sense, it is the result 
of an experience commenced in our earliest days, and 
continued to the end of life. Our perceptions are con- 
tinually increasing, not only in number, but in com- 
pleteness. Repeated acts of observation and closer 
attention are ever dispelling illusions, and purifying and 
perfecting our perceptions. But, not to speak of the 
continual enlargement of our knowledge through per- 
ception, every intelligent act of perception presupposes 
and requires several mental acts and experiences. 
Through a variety of experiences which have already 
been described, we must first have acquired a knowl- 
edge of our animated organism as an extended object, 
and learned how to use it in acquiring a knowledge of 
other things. And the perception of every external 
object, besides an appropriate use of the organ of sense, 
requires, first, some degree of attention ; second, the 
judgment that it is an object external to us ; and, 
third, the discriminating of it from other objects by its 



SENSE-PERCEPTION. 41 

qualities, place, &c. By repeated acts of observation, 
we may learn more and more about an object : having 
exhausted all its directly perceptible qualities, we may 
proceed to divide it into parts mechanically, and decom- 
pose it chemically, but can never arrive at an absolute 
knowledge of its nature as distinguished from its quali- 
ties, elements, and parts. Matter in its essence, not 
less than spirit, is incognizable to us. 

12. It is only in a limited sense intuitive. — It is only 
in a very limited sense, at most, that perception is intui- 
tive. The term intuitive comes from the Latin word in- 
tueor, " I see," " behold : " it means, therefore, the direct 
vision of something, primarily through the sense of sight, 
and secondarily by the mind itself. In sense-perception, 
then, what addresses itself directly to the eye is per- 
ceived intuitively ; as colors, forms, and the outward 
aspects of Nature. But even these are intuitively per- 
ceived only as phenomena or appearances : the real 
form, size, and distances of objects are determined by 
the judgment. So, too, tastes, smells, sounds, contact, 
and pressure, being directly perceived as phenomena or 
appearances, may be considered as intuitively perceived. 
But all phenomena must be interpreted and judged of 
by the reason." The reason alone determines what they 
imply ; and what is implied or involved in these appear- 
ances is what constitutes the real perception as a form 
of knowledge. 

11. The parts of an object obtained by mechanical or chemical sepa- 
ration are called its integrant parts ; while its qualities (such as form, 
color, odor, &c.) are called its metaphysical parts. The process by which 
we mentally view an object as composed of parts is called analysis ; while 
that by which these parts are re-united and viewed as a whole is called 
synthesis. In our study of objects, we are constantly performing these 
two counter processes upon them. 



42 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 



SECTION II 



THEORIES OF PERCEPTION. 



1. View of perception by the earliest GrreeJc philoso- 
phers. — In the speculations of the early Greek philoso- 
phers (Thales, Anaximander, Anaximenes, and Heracli- 
tus), man was not very sharply distinguished from nature, 
nor the soul from the body. They were conscious, of 
course, of possessing an intelligence greater than that of 
other objects and animals around them. But this they 
regarded as the result of a more refined material nature 
within, not as the manifestations of a soul different in its 
nature from the body*. They generally assumed some 
material element, as water, air, or fire, as the general 
constitutive principle of all things, — as that of which all 
things consisted, only in different states and under dif- 
ferent forms. With them the soul was but a refined 
form of this material element, and its sensations and per- 
ceptions but the response which it made to the agitations 
or action upon it of the coarser forms of the element 
without. This, in a rude way, corresponds to the mod- 
ern theory of the materialists, that sensation and per- 
ception are wholly the result of our organism, acted 
upon by external objects. 

2. View of perception by later G-reek philosophers and 
the schoolmen. — The Greek philosophers of a later period 
(Anaxagoras, Socrates, Plato, Aristotle) introduced and 
gradually developed the doctrine of an intelligent princi- 
ple in man more or less distinct from his material organ- 
ism. Such a doctrine would necessarily work some 
change in the received view of perception. Perception 
being no longer regarded as the mere result of the ac- 



SENSE-PERCEPTION. 43 

tion of the organism acted upon by external objects, 
but an apprehension of external things by an intelligent 
principle within, some provision must be made for bring- 
ing the external object into relation with this internal 
principle. Accordingly, there was gradually developed, 
more particularly by Aristotle, the distinction of the form 
and the matter of an object, the former of which alone was 
perceived; the soul receiving it as the wax does the im- 
pression of the signet, taking no knowledge of the mate- 
rial of the signet itself. It was felt that the spirit within 
could not directly apprehend the gross external object, 
but only its form or image (to eldog as it was called). 
This doctrine was further developed by the schoolmen of 
the middle ages (who substituted the term species for 
form), and continued in vogue till the time of Descartes. 
3. Descartes 9 theory of perception. — Descartes, the 
father of modern philosophy (born at La Haye, in Tou- 
raine, 1596), distinguished the soul from the body more 
sharply than any of his predecessors, regarding it as 
entirely different in its nature and mode of existence. 
He regarded the brain, or more definitely the peneal 
gland of the brain, as its special presence-chamber, or 
sensorium. In his view, sensation is purely a spiritual 
affection, or thought ; and perception consists in the 
apprehension by the mind of external objects through 
motions in the brain caused by the contact or influence 
of these objects upon the organ of sense, and conveyed 

2. Pythagoras and the Eleatic philosophers (Xenophanes, Parmeni- 
des, and Zeno) rather attempted to construct a world out of their own 
thoughts than to learn what the world actually was. Absorbed in the 
combination and evolution of their concepts, they entirely overlooked 
perception. As every particular thing exists and is therefore embraced 
under the general concept Being, they concluded that all things were 
one (rb ev nal nuv). 



44 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

inward by the animal spirits. These motions were 
not regarded as representing the external object, but, 
by the divine assistance, were made the occasion of 
awakening in the mind a representation of it, which 
alone was perceived, — not the external object itself, 
either in its nature or qualities. Thus we have substi- 
tuted for the representative form or species of the 
earlier philosophers motions conveyed to the brain by 
a mysterious agent called animal spirits. External ob- 
jects being thus perceived, not in themselves, and only 
indirectly through their representative forms or species, 
arbitrarily occasioned by motions or signs in the brain, 
the question immediately arose as to the trustworthiness 
of these perceptions, which has ever since been the great 
point of dispute among philosophers. If sensations are 
mere thoughts of the mind, and not mental apprehen- 
sions of organic affections, the validity of sense-percep- 
tions may well be doubted. 

Descartes relied upon his capacity of thought as proof 
of his spiritual existence. Cogito ergo sum (" I think, 
therefore I exist") was his formula. And this is the 
best proof possible of our possession of a spiritual na- 
ture. The phenomena of thought are entirely different 
from the phenomena of matter as witnessed every- 
where else : hence we cannot believe them to be due 
to the body in our own person. 

4. Pantheistic theory of perception. — From the Car- 
tesian philosophy sprang the most elaborate develop- 
ment of the pantheistic view of nature which has yet 
been made. Spinoza, an earnest student of Descartes, 
despairing of being able to bring mind and matter into 
relation with each other on Cartesian principles, boldly 
transferred thought ^nd extension — by which Descartes 



SENSE-PERCEPTION. 45 

characterized mind and matter respectively — to a single 
substance, itself imperceptible, but manifesting itself phe- 
nomenally in different cases under the two attributes just 
named : in man it took the form of thought ; in inani- 
mate objects, the form of extension. Perception, which 
is one phase of thought, was the apprehension of exten- 
sion, and, like extension, was a mere transitory develop- 
ment from the one underlying imperceptible substance ; 
and hence, as far as they were any thing, they were one 
and the same. Hence this has sometimes been called 
the theory of absolute identity. The underlying or abso- 
lute substance was called God by Spinoza : by others 
it has been called Nature. It is quite immaterial which 
it is called, as it is in itself without relations, and uncon- 
scious indeed, except in the transitory conscious ob- 
jects called men, and the like. In such a system man 
is but an appearance, and thought but an illusion awa- 
kened by the endless evolution from the absolute sub- 
stance of apparently-extended objects. Though not 
without its advocates, even at the present day, I can- 
not but regard the system as the fruit of a great but 
perverted ingenuity. 

5. Ideal theory of perception. — Another ingenious, 
but, as I must regard it, perverted theory of perception, 
is what has been called the ideal theory. As we are 
confessedly conscious of only what is present to the 
mind, and as the external object cannot be present to it, 
but merely an idea or mental representation of the object, 
Berkeley and others have held that our apparent per- 
ceptions of external objects are merely a consciousness 
of ideas, thoughts, or feelings, in our own minds. How 
these ideas come to exist in the mind, if not produced 
there by real objects, has been variously accounted for 



48 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

by different advocates of the theory. Berkeley regarded 
them as presented to the mind by the direct agency of 
God. Fichte regarded the external object as merely a 
self-limiting form of thought, as necessarily assumed in 
order that thought might be realized at all. Schelling 
regarded the mind and its object as really the same, and 
as consciously so in its highest moods of thought, they 
being consciously different and contrasted only in practi- 
cal life. And Hegel regarded thought itself as the all- 
in-all, and as representing in itself all things ; since 
in its development it had passed through all possible 
forms, — forms of thought, in his view, being the same 
as forms of being. Hegel, therefore, was not only an 
idealist, but a nihilist, holding that nothing exists ex- 
cept thoughts. David Hume, of Scotland, had pre- 
viously professed such a doctrine, though on different 
grounds. He denied the existence of every thing 
except states of consciousness ; regarding our idea of 
material substance as wholly generated by our various 
sensations of the so-called material qualities, and our 
idea of self by many rapidly-succeeding states of con- 
sciousness. And similar views to these of Hume, of the 
subject and object of thought, are now held by J. S. 
Mill and others. According to this theory, cooking and 
eating a dinner are merely mental processes, and grow r - 
ing pumpkins and melons only gradually expanding 
ideas. Let him believe it who can. 

6. Materialistic theory of 'perception. — Materialism 
is the precise opposite of idealism. As idealism develops 
the object out of the subject, making it but a result of 
the activity of the soul ; materialism, on the contrary, 
develops the subject out of the object, making it but a 
result of the action of the organism of the body. Ac- 



SENSE-PERCEPTION. 47 

cording to this view, perception and every other form 
of thought and feeling are produced by the action of 
external objects upon our nervous organism, and its re- 
actions upon them, without the intervention of any 
intelligent principle, or any principle whatever other 
than the organism itself. It regards the nervous sys- 
tem as so constructed as to produce these results in 
response to the action of other things upon it. Thus, 
while an agitation in the water of a river is merely an 
agitation there, an agitation in the water of the labyrinth 
of the ear, conveyed to the brain along the auditory nerve, 
becomes a sound, and this solely by virtue of the or- 
ganism itself. And while the light of the sun merely 
warms and quickens other objects, falling upon the eye 
and conveyed to the brain, it is transformed into a pic- 
ture-world within. But who hears the sound, or sees 
the vision ? The organism, of course ; as there is 
nothing else to hear it. The organism, then, both pro- 
duces and realizes these phenomena. Who can believe 
or even conceive this ? Much less can any one believe 
that the organism remembers, imagines, judges, and 
reasons. 

Difficult as it is to conceive how a spiritual nature can 
be connected with a material organism, and act through 
it, and be acted upon by it, yet it is far less inconceiv- 
able than that the material organism itself is percipi- 
ent. And yet many of the scientific men of the present 
day seem to be tending strongly to materialism. They 
have studied the structure of the organs, and find the 
mechanisin so perfect, that they imagine it competent to 
the production of thought : and still there is not one of 
them who does not recoil from expressing in words what 
he is trying to believe ; viz., that the brain or nervous 
system thinks. 



48 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

7. Theory of immediate perception. — To the preced- 
ing views of perception should be added that which, 
since the time of Reid, has commonly been held by the 
Scotch school of philosophers, — the doctrine of an im- 
mediate perception of external objects. And by imme- 
diate perception is meant a direct perception of the 
object itself in certain of its qualities, without the inter- 
vention of any intermediate representative, whether ma- 
terial or immaterial. Prom the preceding account of 
the different theories of perception, it will be seen that 
it has generally been felt that the external object could 
not itself be perceived, but only some form, image, or 
shadow of it which approached more nearly to the 
mind in nature. This representation was called the 
species by the schoolmen ; but, since the time of Des- 
cartes, has generally been called the idea. It has 
assumed three different forms : 1st, That of an imao-e 
or real representative of the external object, regarded 
by some as material and by others as immaterial, pre- 
sented through the senses to the mind for its apprehen- 
sion ; 2d, An image or change somehow produced in 
the mind itself through the action of the organism ; 
and, 3d, An image or representation of the object formed 
in and by the mind in the very act of perception. 

The first two of these views are neither of them sus- 
ceptible of an intelligible explanation, and are now 

7. It may be thought, that, in ever so brief an account of the theories 
of perception, some notice should be taken of the views of so distin- 
guished a philosopher as Kant. But Kant was a metaphysician rather 
than a psychologist, and taught nothing important on the subject of per- 
ception, except that the notions of space and time enter as a necessary 
or a-priori element into every act of perception. For a fuller account of 
the different representative theories of perception, see Wight's Hamil- 
ton, pp. 180-237. 



SENSE-PERCEPTION. 49 

almost universally abandoned ; and the third view also, 
which is here regarded as the true view, is rejected 
by Hamilton, who strenuously advocates in its stead 
the theory of an immediate perception of external ob- 
jects through consciousness. But I am confident that 
this view cannot be maintained. Knowledge is merely 
realized in consciousness, not acquired by it. The ob- 
jections to the theory have already been stated (see 
sect. i. 10). We undoubtedly obtain a knowledge of 
external objects in perception, and form a notion or idea 
of them in the process, as already described (see sect. 
i.), but do not perceive them through this notion as a 
representative, nor apprehend them directly through 
consciousness. 

SECTION III. 
PERCEPTION BY THE DIFFERENT SENSES. 

I. TOUCH (FEELING, PAIN, MUSCULAR SENSE). 

1. Definitions of touch, feeling, etc. — The sensation 
caused by bringing an external object gently into con- 
tact with the skin is called touch; the more internal and 
subjective sensation caused by the pressure of the ob- 
ject touched, or other causes, is coiled feeling; while that 
occasioned by the violent contact of an external object, 
or by any injury of the tissues of the body, or by inter- 
nal or external disease, is called pain. The Muscular 
Sense, sometimes called the active sense, embraces the 
sensations felt in the muscles when exerted in over- 
coming resistance. Besides these general sensations, 
there are other peculiar and occasional feelings, caused 
by local or special stimuli, such as those felt in sneezing, 
shuddering, or from the effects of fear, heat, cold, etc. 



50 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

2. The seat of these various sensations. — All these dif- 
ferent sensations have their seat in the nerves of touch 
or feeling, which proceeding from the brain and spinal 
chord, are distributed to all parts of the body, and branch- 
ing out into innumerable minute filaments as they ap- 
proach the surface, protrude themselves through the 
skin to the cuticle, in the form oipapillce, or little prom- 
inences, with varying degrees of proximity to each 
other in different parts of the body, but at minutely 
small distances in all parts. All the proper feeling ex- 
perienced in any part of the system, even in the use of 
the other senses, is yielded by this class of nerves. The 
nerves of each sense yield but a single class of sensa- 
tions, whatever be the stimulus applied ; as we learn, 
in the case of sight, by pressing upon the eye, when wc 
are conscious of the sensation of color, as if the organ 
were under the stimulus of light. So our nerves of 
touch yield nothing but feeling, and yield all the feel- 
ing of which we are conscious. 

3. The experience of which we are susceptible through 
this sense. — If all the various sensations which have 
their seat in the nerves of feeling be grouped together 
under the sense of touch, as they more commonly are, 
we are susceptible of a more varied experience through 
this sense, than through any other. Its sensations fur- 
nish more obtrusively than those of the other senses, the 
conditions for perceiving extension in our own organ- 
ism and inferring it in external objects, while through 
the feeling of resistance we reach our first knowledge 
of external objects. It is through the nerves pertaining 
to this sense, also, that we experience the sensations 
of heat and cold, of the healthy and diseased action of 
all the organs, of disorganization, of injury done to 



PERCEPTION. 51 

any part of the body, and various other sensations so 
essential to our comfort or preservation. (N. I. 3, p. 252.) 
4. The hand the most important organ of this sense. 
— The hand is the most important organ of this sense, 
as well on account of its delicate sensibility to external 
objects, as on account of the freedom of its motions and 
its adaptedness to grasping and thus ascertaining the 
form of objects. The blind man, by passing his fingers 
over the lines of a book printed in raised letters, reads 
almost as readily and rapidly as one does by sight. 
But while the form of small objects which can be 
grasped, or are easily compassed by the motion of the 
hand, is very readily determined by touch, it is very 
difficult, if not impossible, to ascertain the form of 
large objects by this sense alone. The form of such 
bodies is more readily learned by sight, through its ac- 
quired powers. 

II. TASTE. 

1. The organ of this sense. — The tongue is the or- 
gan of taste, the skin of which, at innumerable points, 
is pierced to the mucous membrane by minute fila- 
ments of the gustatory nerve, producing the little 
prominences, or papillce, which are plainly discernible 
all over its surface, but especially on the tip, edges, and 
near the root. Although this organ, like all other 
organs and parts of the body, is supplied with nerves 
of feeling, it is the gustatory nerve alone which is sus- 
ceptible of the distinctive sensation of taste. As it is 
necessary that the substance should be diffused over 
the organ and be brought into close connection with 
the terminations of the nervous filaments, in order that 
it be tasted, only such substances as are soluble in the 



52 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

saliva affect the sense ; and hence, while the m©uth ia 
furnished with teeth for crushing substances, the tongue 
is surrounded by the salivary glands which secrete this 
fluid. Hence it is, that if from any cause the saliva 
is scantily furnished, or the tongue becomes coated so 
as to cover the papillce to any considerable depth, the 
taste, for the time being, is greatly injured or destroyed. 

2. A taste is a mere sensation, — Taste is a mere sen- 
sation, and conveys to us directly no knowledge of its 
cause. As, however, we soon learn that the sensation 
arises only when certain substances are placed in the 
mouth, we infer that these are the cause of it. But 
what the particular property in objects is which causes 
the sensation, at least in its nature, is still unknown. 
As a mere subjective sensation yielding no perception 
of an external extended object, a taste involves but few 
physical elements, — barely those embraced in the physi- 
cal changes produced in the mouth by the substance 
tasted. But even these are often sufficient to afford 
the ground for a description of it, and are always pres- 
ent to the mind in recalling the sensation. In recalling 
tastes, we often smack the lips, or spit, as though re- 
jecting something offensive from the mouth, in evident 
allusion to the impression which they originally made 
upon this organ. 

3. Taste as a test of vjholesomeness. — Whatever is 
taken into the mouth and has an agreeable taste, we 
have a disposition to swallow, while we involuntarily 
reject whatever has a disagreeable taste. However, 
the taste of substances is but a poor test of their 
wholesomeness. Some of the most deadly poisons, as, 
for instance, arsenic, are sweet and agreeable to the 
taste, while most of the useful medicines are very offen- 



PERCEPTION. 53 

sive to the taste. And even of articles of food, it is 
not always those which are the most agreeable to the 
taste that are the most healthful. It is only by experi- 
ence that we learn what is hurtful to be eaten, and hav- 
ing learned this, the other senses enable us, without re- 
sorting to taste, to recognize, on their recurrence, arti- 
cles which have been found to be of this character, as 
well as those which have been found to be of an oppo- 
site character. 

III. SMELL. 

1. The organ of this sense. — The nose is the organ 
of smell, in the back part of which are situated the tur- 
binated bones, which consist of thin convoluted plates, 
like a piece of crimped paper, exposing a large surface 
in a small space. Over these bones is spread the olfac- 
tory nerve, in which resides the susceptibility to odors ; 
and this, again, is covered by the mucous membrane 
which lines the nose and mouth, and secretes the mu- 
cus necessary to keep the surface soft and in a condi- 
tion favorable to perception. An organ thus situated 
and constructed, can be reached by external objects 
only through minute particles thrown off from them, 
and borne through the air to the interior of the nose. 
Hence only those substances are odoriferous which are 
capable of throwing off such particles. 

2. Smell is a mere sensation. — Smell, like taste, is 
a mere sensation, conveying no direct knowledge of its 
cause. The cause is discovered only by experience. 
By observing that the presence of certain objects is ac- 
companied by the sensations of smell, we infer that 
these sensations are somehow caused by these objects. 
On further examination, we learn that particles of the 



54 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

substance smelled, called effluvia, are actually present 
in the air, and must be drawn into the nostrils with 
every inspiration of the breath. We conclude, there- 
fore, that these substances cause the sensations by 
throwing off particles into the surrounding air, which by 
due process are brought into contact with the organ. 
As to the physical character of the sensation, and its 
capability of being recalled in memory, much the same 
may be said as in the case of taste. We often recall 
an agreeable or disagreeable odor so vividly, as to seem 
now to be smelling it, and snuff or snort with the nose 
as an indication of our conception of its character. 

3. Importance of the sense. — Smell is an important 
sense, not only as assisting in determining what is 
wholesome to be taken into the system (and for this 
reason, as remarked by Socrates of old, placed near the 
mouth), but also, on account of its informing us of the 
existence of objects at a distance, out of the reach or 
range of the other senses, or inappreciable by them. It 
thus greatly enlarges the boundary of our knowledge of 
external things. 

IV. SIGHT OR VISION. 

1. The organ of this sense. — The eye is the organ 
of sight. The rays of light proceeding from an object, 
on reaching the eye, first pass through the cornea and 
aqueous humor, and are admitted into the chamber of 
the eye through a small opening in the iris, called the 
pupil. From this point the rays pass on through the 
crystalline lens and the vitreous humor to the retina, 
which is a fine network expansion of the optic nerve, 
embedded in the black pigment of the choroid coating, in 
the back part of the eye. The rays of light from the 



PERCEPTION. fi 



Db 



different parts of an object proceeding in straight lines 
cross each other on their entrance at the pupil, and 
slightly refracted, or bent inwards, in their progress 
through the eye, form a diminished and inverted picture 
of the object on the retina. 

2. Conditions of vision. — The susceptibility of 
sight resides in the retina, and all that is required for 
producing perfect vision in a sound eye, is, that a given 
amount of light should proceed from an object and be 
formed into a distinct image upon the retina. To se- 
cure this, the eye has certain powers of adjustment, 
such as contracting and expanding the pupil, in order 
to let in less or more light, and perhaps, of changing the 
form or the position of the crystalline lens, so as to se- 
cure the distinctness of the image. These powers of 
adjustment, however, are quite limited. A great excess 
or deficiency of light, or an unusual convexity or flat- 
ness of the eye, cannot be remedied by any power of 
adjustment which it possesses, though the latter defect 
may be in certain cases by external appliances, as by 
concave or convex glasses. 

3. What vision is. — Our consciousness of an affec- 
tion of the optic nerve is vision, just as our conscious- 
ness of an affection of the gustatory nerve is taste. 
The light falling upon the retina from an object pro- 
duces in it a certain change or modification, varying in 
the different parts of the nervous expanse, according to 
the quality and quantity of the rays, and this affection 
reveals itself as a pictured outline. That the organ is 
thus affected we know from observation, and that it is 
this organic affection of which we are directly con- 
scious, and not the external colored objects, is evident 
from various considerations, and especially from the 



56 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

fact, that light proceeds from a body to the eye, and is 
seen, and can be seen, only when it reaches the eye ; 
i.e., it is nothing to us till it becomes an organic affec- 
tion. Hence, sight or vision, in the first instance, and 
without the elements derived from experience, is simply 
the consciousness of an affection of the visual organ. 

4. Color, as apprehended by us, is a mere sensation. - — 
Consequently, color, as far as it is directly apprehended 
by us, is a mere sensation. It is merely the recognition 
in our organism of an extended nervous expanse as 
colored. As to the nature and character of a sensa- 
tion so elusive and so much under dispute among phi- 
losophers, I gladly avail myself of the following clear, 
and, to me at least, satisfactory, statement of Sir W. 
Hamilton * on the subject. (Notes, p. 252.) 

5. Remarks of Hamilton. — "I hold that color, in 
itself, as apprehended, or immediately known to us, is 
a mere affection of the nervous organism ; and there- 
fore, like the other secondary qualities, an object, not 
of perception, but of sensation proper. The only dis- 
tinguishing peculiarity in this case, lies in the three 
following circumstances : — 

" (1.) That the organic affection of color, though not 
altogether indifferent, still, being accompanied by com- 
paratively little pleasure, comparatively little pain, the 
apprehension of this affection, qua affection, i.e., its sen- 
sation proper, is consequently always at a minimum. 

" (2.) That the passion of color first risiug into con- 
sciousness, not from the amount of the intensive quan- 
tity of the affection, but from the amount of the exten- 
sive quantity of the organism affected, is necessarily 
apprehended under the condition of extension. 

* Wight's Hamilton, p. 431. 



PERCEPTION'. 57 

" (3) That the isolation, tenuity, and delicacy of the 
ultimate filaments of the optic nerve afford us minutely 
and precisely distinguished sensations, realized in con- 
sciousness only as we are conscious of them as out of 
each other in space. 

" These circumstances show, that while in vision, 
perception proper is at its maximum and sensation 
proper at its minimum, the sensation of color can- 
not be realized apart from the perception of extension : 
but they do not warrant the assertion, that color is not, 
like the other secondary qualities, apprehended by us 
as a mere sensorial affection." 

6. Fallacies of vision. — - According to the above view 
of vision, the various fallacies of sight, as they have 
been called, vanish at once ; such as the crooked appear- 
ance of a straight stick when thrust into the water, the 
apparent suspension of objects in the air in mirage, 
the small apparent size of the sun and moon, and other 
large bodies, which are far removed from us. As vis- 
ion is merely the apprehension of the actual affection 
of the organ, there is no deception in these cases. The 
visual image is precisely what it appears to be. The 
actual form, size, position, etc., of the object represented 
by the sensation is reached only by the co-operation of 
the other senses and powers. 

7. Vision leads to a knowledge of external objects. — 
But vision, though in itself a mere sensation, is not 
practically confined to the subjective affection. As in 
the case of other sensations, we soon learn to infer its 
cause. As we are conscious of the affection only when 
the eyes are open, we at once infer that the cause is 
without. On further experience, we learn that the 
affection varies as we turn in different directions, and 



58 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

that the same affection recurs when we occupy the 
same position and our eyes are in the same direction. 
The unavoidable inference, therefore, is, that each affec- 
tion has a particular cause, lying in a particular direc- 
tion from us. Coming to this conclusion, we soon 
verify our conjecture by moving in different directions, 
and, by means of our other senses, identifying as their 
cause certain objects appreciable by the other senses. 
Having thus established as the cause of visual affec- 
tions, certain external objects in a given relation to us, 
we come to take a visual affection as the sign of the 
existence of a corresponding object in a particular di- 
rection and relation to us, — nay, transfer the appear- 
ance directly to the object in space. The rest is learned 
by after-experience, particularly by the motion and scru- 
tiny of the eyes. 

8. We learn the relative position of the different parts 
of an object to us by the motion of the eyes. — We not 
only learn by experience that the objects of vision are 
external to us, and the general directions in which they 
lie from us, but by the motion of the eyes over an ob- 
ject we learn the exact relative position of its different 
parts towards us. The picture of an object on the re- 
tina, as we learn from science, is inverted relatively to 
the object without. But this we can never become 
conscious of, or deduce from our own experience, only 
as the actual position of the different parts of the ex- 
ternal object to the eye are learned by the use of the 
sense itself. And in learning this, and just as fast and 
as far as we learn this, we learn, also, as we shall soon 
see, that, following out the ascertained lines of vision, 
every point in the object corresponds to its projected 
image on the retina ; so that there never can be any 



PEBGEPTlOXi 59 

conscious discrepancy between the position of the dif- 
ferent parts of an object and its perceived affection or 
image. The law of visible direction^ which shows the 
position of an object and its image on the retina to differ 
relatively, shows them to agree actually. (N. 8, p. 252.) 

9. The law of visible direction. — How, now, do we 
learn this law of visible direction ? Although we re- 
ceive the general image of all parts of an object within 
the field .of vision when we open the eyes before it, 
still, it is distinctly and satisfactorily seen only as every 
part in succession is scrutinized by the eyes, with the 
axes more or less concentrated upon it. And all ob- 
jects presented to our view are thus scrutinized by the 
eyes, which are constantly traversing in concert every 
object before them. By this scrutinizing movement 
of the eyes, up and down, to the right and left, over 
an object, the relative position of every part of it to 
the eye is learned, and we soon come to understand 
that each point of an object is seen in the direction of 
a perpendicular to that point of the retina upon which 
the rays from it fall, which is called the law of visible 
direction. Thus the image, at one end of the comple- 
ment of rays, corresponds throughout to the object at 
the other, and any perceived discrepancy is impossible. 

10. How we learn the form of objects by sight. — It 
is by the active and scrutinizing use of the eyes, also, 
that we learn to judge of the form of external objects 
by sight. As the light from all parts of an object 
reaches the eye in straight lines, we cannot, of course, 
directly see the form of any thing, except in two dimen- 
sions ; i.e., as a mere surface outline, just as it is pic- 
tured upon the retina. All that we can see is different 
varieties and shades of color covering a certain expanse. 



60 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

A solid body is discovered to be such by the sight : — 
in part, from the different degrees of brightness in the 
light from the more distant and averted portions and 
those nearer and more directly before us ; and in part, 
by the varying effort and angle under which the axes 
of the eyes are concentrated upon the different parts 
of it, or of the objects which surround it and deter- 
mine its form. When the object is a solid of such 
shape and size that no rays of light from it reach the 
eyes except from the surface towards them, we make 
out its form from the appearance of surrounding ob- 
jects. 

11. How we learn to see things single. — The question 
here is not, why we do not in looking at an object see 
two images of it which are precisely alike, since we never 
can, at the same time, see two images of an object pre- 
cisely alike. But the real question is, why we are not 
conscious of two images of an object, since two differ- 
ent views of it are actually imaged upon the two eyes ? 
This question may be answered in a general way, by 
saying that it is for the same reason that we hear but 
one sound with two ears, or feel but one object with 
two hands ; viz., that knowing the object to be one by 
other means, as well as by the general sameness of the 
two impressions on the double organ, we have learned to 
disregard the difference, and are not at all conscious of 
it unless the attention is specially called to it. Two 
ears, two eyes, and two hands are given us for the pre- 
cise purpose of observing opposite sides of things — for 
enlarging our experience on the right and on the left — 
but our Creator has abundantly provided by the princi- 
ple of habit that no confusion shall arise from this 
beneficent arrangement. And this, perhaps, is an ade- 



PERCEPTION. 61 

qu#te answer ; but it may be rendered more convinc- 
ing by a more precise statement. 

12. A more precise answer. — From the relative po- 
sition of the two eyes towards an object, one must 
always take in a different aspect of it from the other, 
when they are opened before it. This becomes con- 
sciously so to a cross-eyed person, who attempts to use 
both eyes in looking at an object ; also, to any one who 
receives upon his eyes the image of an object lying be- 
yond some point on which he is steadily fixing his 
gaze, — the more remote object, in such a case, always 
appears double. And all objects would appear so to 
us were not the two images, in ordinary vision, actu- 
ally brought together and blended into one. Not only do 
the two images seen in looking at any object necessarily 
lap on to each other, but as vision is clear and distinct 
only at those points where the axes of the eyes are more 
or less concentrated, we are constantly traversing objects 
from point to point by both eyes in concert, which re- 
duces all to unity. Yet, that we are familiar with 
the aspect of an object as seen by each eye, and actu- 
ally combine these two aspects in vision, is evident 
Siom the illusion produced by the Stereoscope. By 
this contrivance, two photographic pictures of a person 
or thing, such as would be seen were it looked at first 
with one eye and then with the other, are enclosed 
in a case, and viewed through two eye-glasses brought 
near to the eyes. The result is, that the two pictures 
are combined into one, and we seem to be looking at 
a single object standing out in relief, as in nature. 

13. How we learn to judge of distance by sight. — It 
is by experience, also, that we learn to judge of tjie dis- 
tance of objects by sight. It is obvious that we do rot 



62 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

directly see distance ; and this has been proved experi- 
mentally in the case of persons born blind and after- 
wards restored to sight. Such persons are found, at 
first, incapable of forming any idea of distance by 
sight.* But we learn by experience to infer distance 
from sight with great certainty. We soon learn that 
distance greatly affects the brightness of the color and 
the distinctness of the outline of objects. We are also 
conscious of a varying muscular effort in adjusting the 
eyes to see objects distinctly at different distances. 
From these circumstances, and the intervention of other 
objects of known size and character, in the field of vis- 
ion between the eye and the object looked at, we learn 
to judge quite accurately by sight of the distance of ob- 
jects from us. And having thus formed a notion of 
their distance, we infer also their size. Thus, by expe- 
rience, vision, like our other senses, becomes the source 
of knowledge, of which, at first, it is entirely incapable. 
14. But our judgments from vision suppose uniform 
conditions. — It is true, that vision in itself being 
merely the recognition of the actual affection of the re- 
tina, and the knowledge which we acquire by it of the 
position, form, size, and distance of objects being only 
inferential, our judgment in regard ta these qualities of 
objects can be relied upon only under normal condi- 
tions in the atmosphere, which is the medium through 
which light reaches the eye. If in passing through this 
medium the light from any object is bent out of its 
course, as it often is by a change of density in different 
strata, the object is not seen in its proper place or po- 

* See the account of the young man couched by Cheselden, Hamil- 
ton's Re*, p. 136. 



PERCEPTION. 63 

sition, as is the case in looming or mirage. So a hazy 
atmosphere, giving an indistinctness of outline to an 
object near by, while it does not, of course, diminish its 
apparent size, makes us judge it to be larger than it 
really is ; since we imagine it, from the indistinctness 
of its outline, to be farther off than it is, — we allow 
loo much for distance. Bishop Berkeley attributes to 
this source of illusion the increased apparent size of the 
sun and moon when seen in the horizon, compared with 
their apparent size in mid-heaven. But this would 
seem to be due, rather, as explained by Descartes, to 
the intervention of objects of known size within the 
field of vision, when they are seen in the horizon, 
with which these heavenly bodies are brought into 
comparison, and judged to be larger in consequence, 
because known to be vastly farther off, — the compari- 
son forces us to magnify the apparent size of the dis- 
tant luminaries. 

15. But any illusions of sight are easily corrected. — 
But these and the like illusions of sight are compara- 
tively few and unimportant, and are either wholly cor- 
rected or rendered harmless by experience. They are 
all explained by a knowledge of the laws of nature, 
and easy means of correction supplied. Sight thus 
opens to us a wide and diversified field for perception, 
and by the cheerful light and varied hues with which 
it clothes nature, imparts the crowning charm to life. 

V. HEARING. 

1. The organ of this sense. — The ear is the organ 
of hearing. At the point where it joins the head, the 
ear becomes contracted to a small tube, across the bot- 
tom of which is stretched the membrane that forms 



64 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

the head of the tympanum or drum, which is a cavity 
containing a succession of bones so arranged as to 
propagate vibrations most effectively. Below the tym- 
panum is the labyrinth, which is filled with a watery 
fluid, in which the fibres of the auditory nerve, the seat 
of the sensation of sound, are spread out. The exter- 
nal ear collects the vibrations proceeding from sonorous 
bodies through the air, which are conveyed to the drum 
through the tube, and from that propagated with greatly 
increased intensity to the fluid of the labyrinth, and 
thus to the auditory nerve which floats in this fluid ; 
the vibratory affection of which is recognized by the 
mind as sound. 

2. Sound is a mere sensation. — Sound, too, as per- 
ceived by us, is a mere sensation. Its immediate cause 
we learn to be, the vibratory motion of the surrounding 
air; and its remote cause, the vibratory motion of the 
particles of some body, which causes the agitation in 
the air. As the whole movement originates with this 
remote cause, this is considered the real cause. In de- 
termining the direction of a sound and tracing it to its 
source, we are greatly assisted by having two ears, and 
the capacity of turning the head in different directions. 
It is on the fact that we judge of the direction whence 
a sound comes from the manner in which it strikes the 
ear, and of its distance by its strength and distinctness, 
that the art of ventriloquism is founded. The ventrilo- 
quist, with some peculiarity, perhaps, in the organs of 
speech, has acquired such power over his voice, that he 
is able, aided by an artful direction of the attention of 
the hearers, to speak in such tones as may seem to 
proceed from any point he pleases. 

3. Importance of this sense. — The sense of hearing 



PERCEPTION. 65 

is important to us, not only by informing us of the clash 
of objects, the roar of waters, the agitations of the ele- 
ments, the cries of animals, the artificial sounds, whether 
produced for pleasure or utility, but especially as the 
means of catching the tones of the human voice, and 
receiving the thoughts of others conveyed to the ear in 
winged words. Nay, even the exercise of our own 
powers of speech depends upon our possession of the 
sense of hearing. The voice can be articulated only 
as its tones are heard by the speaker himself. 



SECTION IV. 
IMPORTANCE OP THE SENSES. 



1. Comparative importance of the senses. — Of the 
comparative importance of the different senses it seems 
difficult to judge. They are all so important, so neces- 
sary, that it is hard determining which is the most so. 
As of the members of the body in general one cannot 
say to the other, " I have no need of thee," so of the 
senses in particular, it is hard to say which we could 
spare best. Yet, it is obvious that the loss of feeling 
must be the most fatal, though the loss of sight seems 
the most deplorable. But it is found, as matter of fact, 
that the loss of hearing, accompanied, as it always is, 
by the loss of the power of speech, is a greater obstacle 
to improvement than the loss of sight, and I doubt if it 
be not a greater deduction from one's happiness. 

2. Their individual and combined importance. — But, 
of the individual and combined importance of the 
senses, there can be no doubt. It is by them that na- 



66 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

ture is unlocked and disclosed, being transformed from 
what would be to us a universal blank to the cheerful 
scene in which we ever move. By Taste her various 
sapid qualities are elicited — her treasured stores of 
sweet and pleasant flavors, with their opposites, the bit- 
ter, the sour, the acrid, and the nauseous. Smell snuffs 
up her odors, and Hearing drinks in her harmonies ; 
while under the power of Touch and Sight she dis- 
closes her huge masses, her vast distances, her endless 
variety of forms, all invested with a robe of light, so 
bright, so cheerful, so variegated, so tinted and beauti- 
fied, as to defy all imitation, or even description. 

3. The senses collect the primitive materials used by 
the mind. — The senses, then, collect the primitive ma- 
terials, and indeed, the whole mass of materials from 
without, used by the other powers of the mind. Be- 
sides perception, we have the powers of memory, imagi- 
nation, conception, judgment, and reasoning. Of these 
powers, memory simply retains what has been acquired 
by perception ; while conception, judgment, and reasoning 
combine perceived and remembered ideas, and make in- 
ductions and deductions from them. The means for 
exerting our higher powers, therefore, and the legiti- 
macy of their results, all depend upon the extent 
and character of the primitive materials collected by 
the senses. It is obvious, therefore, in general, that the 
man who neglects to use his senses assiduously and 
carefully, can have but little knowledge, and that of a 
very vague and indistinct character. Without the 
proper use of the senses, there must always be an in- 
definiteness, an inaccuracy, an insufficiency in our views, 
which can be remedied by no other powers. 

4. The sciences are founded upon perceived facts. — 
Most sciences are founded upon facts, and of these, all 



PERCEPTION. 67 

but mental science, upon facts observed by the senses. 
And in many, if not in most, of these sciences, the ob- 
served facts are the chief thing. In all the branches 
of Natural History, there is nothing but classification, 
beyond the collection of facts. And while the collec- 
tion and proper inspection of these require a vast 
amount of time, labor, and care, the principle of clas- 
sification is usually quite obvious, and is generally of 
itself suggested to the mind during the collection of 
the materials, if only the senses be properly used in 
scrutinizing them as they pass under their observation. 
And even in Natural Philosophy, not excepting As- 
tronomy, the facts are not only the foundation, but a 
large part of the science. 

5. Even language is based upon the perceptions of the 
senses. — And not only so, even language is built very 
largely upon the knowledge acquired by the senses. 
The first meaning of most words is physical. A large 
part of the words of a language, of course, refer solely 
to things physical — to natural objects, changes, or 
phenomena. Of the rest, very many, not excepting 
those referring to mental states, acts, relations, etc., 
have a physical element as their basis. Hence much 
of the force and meaning of language must depend 
upon our having observed the physical objects, facts, 
changes, phenomena, to which the words refer, or from 
which they take their coloring. 

6. These elements of knowledge are accessible to all. 
— Now it is benevolently arranged by our Creator, 
that these facts, thus lying at the foundation of all 
knowledge and improvement, are generally close at 
hand, addressing themselves to our senses, and solicit- 
ing our attention on all sides. We have but to open 



68 intellectual philosophy. 

our eyes and unseal our senses, to perceive the great 
mass of them. As a whole, they are so accessible, and 
even obtrusive, that an ev^r-wakeful attention will en- 
able even the common man, in connection with his 
ordinary pursuits and experience, to collect a vast store 
of them. 

7. Importance of cultivating the senses by observation. 
— We see, then, how great importance attaches to our 
early forming the habit of close and accurate observa- 
tion of all the objects and changes around us. This 
is the way to cultivate our senses and make them in 
the highest degree useful to us. The man who forms 
this habit early and continues it through life, keeping 
up, wherever he goes, and however employed, a lively 
wakefulness of attention to what exists and is occur- 
ring around him ; examining everywhere nature and 
art, earths, minerals, insects, animals, man, chemical 
and mechanical processes and arrangements, the aspects 
of the earth, the sea, and the sky, will acquire a vast 
store of most interesting and useful knowledge, and 
have in his possession the materials for making a great 
philosopher. One thus furnished, only wants an intel- 
lect capable of evoking order from the mass, and con- 
necting his materials by the natural threads of classifi- 
cation and law, to become a Cuvier, a Humboldt, a 
Miller, or an Agassiz. 

8. Importance of training- the senses in youth. — In 
conclusion, I cannot refrain from suggesting, as a most 
obvious inference from what has been said, that more 
attention should be given to the training of the senses 
to habits of observation in youth. Parents should en- 
deavor to form the habit in their children, and teachers 
in those committed to their charge. Observation by 



PERCEPTION. 69 

the senses should be a very important branch of in- 
struction in all schools, from the lowest to the highest. 
Natural objects of all kinds should be examined and 
analyzed before the pupils, while they are required ac- 
curately to note all their peculiarities. And if our 
schools would adjourn to the fields, en masse, for an 
hour or two each day, and carry on the study of nature 
there, it would be greatly to the advantage of the pu- 
pils, both physically and intellectually. 



CHAPTER III. 

MEMORY. 

SECTION I. 
CONDITIONS OF MEMORY (ASSOCIATION). 

1. Memory and recollection, — Memory is the com- 
mon undiscriminating term employed to designate the 
recovery or reproduction of our past experience, 
whether it be our thoughts, feelings, volitions, or ac- 
tions. But, in distinction from recollection or reminis- 
cence, it means that ready reproduction of the past as 
though it were an ever-present possession. According 
to its derivation, memory means the being mindful of 
the having something in mind. Whatever we perfectly 
remember seems a part of the ready furniture of the 
mind, — something which we can rely upon for use 
whenever we need it ; so that we have but to turn our 
attention inward to perceive the objects of memory, 
just as we have but to open the eye to see outward 
objects. Recollection, or reminiscence, on the con- 
trary, recognizes the reproduction of our past experi- 
ence as a process, — as the collecting again, or becoming 
mindful again, of something known before. In recol- 
lection we are conscious of a search for the object, and 

realize that it is reached only by several steps. The 
70 



MEMORY. 71 

difference, however, between memory and recollection, 
is only apparent. They are both processes; only, in the 
former case, the steps are more readily, and hence less 
consciously, taken. Familiar objects, being more largely 
associated with our experience, are readily remembered; 
since, whichever way we look, or turn our thoughts, we 
meet with something which reminds us of them. Thus 
the steps are so readily and rapidly taken, that we are 
scarcely conscious of taking them at all. 

2. Statement of the conditions of memory. — The con- 
ditions of memory, or what have usually been called the 
laws of association, were well known and clearly stated 
by Aristotle, and have been distinctly recognized by all 
competent writers on the human mind ever since. 
These conditions are, that whatever is remembered 

MUST BE RECALLED OR REACHED, EITHER THROUGH 
SOMETHING IN OUR PRESENT THOUGHTS OR EXPERIENCE 
SIMILAR TO IT IN SOME RESPECT, OR THROUGH SOME- 
THING RELATED TO IT BY CONTIGUITY OF TIME OR 
PLACE, OR THROUGH SOMETHING RELATED TO IT BY 

contrariety or contrast. Some things are reached 
through one of these relations, and some through 
another ; but nothing can be remembered on any other 
conditions. Some minds recall more things by one of 
these laws, and some more by another ; but no mind can 
recall any thing except by one or another of them. 

3. Of the condition of similarity. — The first condi- 
tion of memory, then, is similarity, or likeness. The 
likeness may be either direct or fanciful ; but some like- 
ness is essential. Instances of things recalled by a 
direct likeness are such as the reviving in the mind of 
some taste, smell, feeling, or emotion, by the recurrence 
in our experience of a similar taste, smell, &c. ; or the 



72 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

recalling of some familiar face by the present sight of a 
face with some resembling feature. As is well known, 
a single resembling feature in a face often awakens the 
recollection of an absent friend ; and a single resembling 
strain in a tune, the recollection of a once familiar air. 
So of fanciful likenesses : the decay of plants or the fall- 
ing of the leaves tends to remind one of death, pensive 
music inspires solemn thoughts, and vast solitudes sug- 
gest ideas of God and of eternity. We often avail our- 
selves of this principle of similarity in order to secure 
the ready recollection of a name, for instance, which it 
is important that we should have at our command ; as 
when we recall the name Walker by looking at the 
feet. 

4. Of the condition of ideas having been in the mind 
together. — The second condition of memory is, that, in 
regard to time and place, only those things recall each 
other which happen or exist together, and, as such, have 
been perceived together. And, when things have been 
thus perceived together, it is found that the recurrence of 
one of them afterwards in our thoughts or experience 
tends to reproduce the other, or others. Thus the succes- 
sive words on the page which we are studying are per- 
ceived in immediate connection with each other and with 
the page itself, and we find that they tend to recall each 
other in the order in which they were perceived. For 
the same reason, the name tends to recall the thing, 
and the thing its name. So a native air in a foreign 
land will remind one of home, where he has so often 
heard it before. Peelings or emotions, also, are recalled 

3. In what is called recognition, or the reviving of a former perception 
of any object by its recurrence in our experience, the thing recalls itself, 
instead of something connected with it. , 



MEMORY. 



iO 



or revived on the same principle. Thus, on the sabbath, 
and in the house of God, the mind readily takes on the 
tone which it has so often experienced there before ; 
while, for the same reason, it is exhilarated with light- 
ness or f&yety in the ball-chamber or the festive hall. 

5. The so-called condition of contrast is not a con- 
dition. — The condition of contrariety, or contrast, does 
not seem to be a distinct principle of memory. As far 
as it is a principle of memory at all, it appears to be but 
a particular application of the last principle. Much of 
our knowledge comes into the mind in the form of con- 
trasts ; and, coming in thus, is naturally recalled in the 
same order, according to the preceding law. In our ex- 
perience, we meet in close proximity with each other the 
good and the bad, the rich and the poor, the high and the 
low, the bitter and the sweet, day and night, hill and 
dale, woodland and prairie, land and water, the hovel 
and the palace, and all the ten thousand varieties and 
contrasts of life. Now, if these contrasts tend to sud*- 
gest each other by memory proper, it must be through 
the tie formed between them by thus coming into the 
mind near together. But it seems to me, rather, that 
in most of such cases the contrasted pairs are but rela- 
tive ideas, each essential in defining the other. They 
thus imply each other in thought, rather than are sug- 
gested by each other in memory. The terms good and 
bad, rich and poor, high and low, bitter and sweet, day 
and night, part and whole, true and false, parent and 
child, debtor and creditor, simple and complex, equal 
and unequal, and the like, mutually imply and define 
each other ; so that, when one occurs to the mind, the 
other comes with it as its limiting opposite, or contrast. 
As Hamilton says, " The knowledge of relatives is 



74 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

one: " when we attempt fully to realize the one, it is 
found to imply the other. 

6. Things are remembered only by the recurrence of 
the same or the similar. — Our past experience and ab- 
sent thoughts then, if recalled at all, must be recalled 
by the recurrence in our present experience of some- 
thing which is either similar in some respect to that 
which is recalled, or something which on some former 
occasion has actually occurred in connection with that 
which is recalled. Thus the recurrence of the same 
and of similar thoughts or experience alone gives us 
any clew to what is past or now absent from the mind. 
And this is enough, as life repeats itself every day 
either in the same or similar forms ; and the often er it 
repeats itself thus in any one's experience, the surer 
and more ready is his memory. This, indeed, is one 
of the chief circumstances which determine the lines of 
association, or the methods of recovering their past ex- 
perience, in different men. 

7. Of the effect of the repetition of the same on the 
memory. — Repetition, then, of the same or similar expe- 
rience, exerts an important influence on the memory. 
The narrower one's course of life, the more frequently it 
repeats itself in the same forms, and the more com- 
plete is the mastery of the past experience. Men 
remember best what has been oftenest in their minds; 
and hence, in recovering any thing past or absent, run 
along the line which their occupation or daily life has 
led them so frequently to trace. Accordingly, it has 
always been observed that our associations are very 
much determined by our business or profession. As 
one cannot remember at all what has never been in his 
thoughts, so he remembers best, what has oftenest 



MEMORY. 75 

been there. Every time a thought, feeling, or action, is 
repeated, it is done in connection witli some other 
thought, thing, feeling, or action, and thus forms a new 
association or tie at every repetition. Such associations 
are necessarily formed in the oft-repeated routine of 
our daily business, or among the oft-recurring thoughts 
in our habitual modes of thinking : and hence every 
thing within such a sphere becomes, as we say, per- 
fectly familiar to us, and is easily called up when 
wanted; since the whole round of thoughts, actions, &c, 
are thoroughly associated and bound up together. 

8. Of the effect of the repetition of the similar. — In 
like manner, repetition and familiarity determine the 
lines of association through which we reach things 
absent on the principle of likeness. Thus an old Lu- 
theran divine (quoted by Hamilton) naturally regard- 
ing the pope of Rome as a monster, and, familiar with 
the interpretation which makes the Apocalyptic Baby- 
lon only a mystical representation of Papal Rome, 
reaches the recollection of Babylon through a chain of 
association starting with the thought of the hydra, the 
monster killed by Hercules. Thus : " The thought of 
the hydra reminds me of the pope; the memory of him, 
of Rome; and the memory of Rome, of Babylon." An 
astronomer, on the contrary, from his habits of thought 
might reach the memory of Babylon from an observa- 
tion of the stars ; since the Chaldeans, who lived at 
Babylon, were among the earliest cultivators of this 
science. 

9. Of the effect of interest on the memory. — Another 
circumstance which greatly affects the memory is the 
degree of interest felt in the things to be remembered. 
When an unusual degree of feeling or interest accom- 



76 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

panies any experience or the reception of an idea, it is 
much more firmly associated with the attendant circum- 
stances, and hence is more likely to be recalled afterwards 
by the repetition of any of these circumstances. Hence 
it is that the events of a battle or a campaign always 
remain fresh, as we say, in the mind of a soldier, and 
that the young, to whom every thing is new, and hence 
interesting, remember facts better than those who are 
older. Interest, also, gives new potency to the principle 
of similarity in calling up absent thoughts or things, as 
is so happily represented by Shakspeare in his " Mer- 
chant of Venice : " — 

" My wind, cooling my broth, 
Would blow me to an ague when I thought 
What harm a wind too great might do at sea. 
I should not see the sandy hour-glass run 
But I should think of shallows and of flats ; 
And see my wealthy Andrew docked in sand, 
Veiling her high-top lower than her ribs 
To kiss her burial. Should I go to church 
And see the holy edifice of stone, 
And not bethink me straight of dangerous rocks, 
Which, touching but my gentle vessel's side, 
Would scatter all her spices on the stream ; 
Enrobe the roaring waters with my silks ; 
And, in a word, but even now worth this, 
And now worth nothing ? " 

10. Of the effect of attention. — Attention to any 
thing when it is experienced or received into the mind 
tends largely to strengthen the memory. The chief 
source of the influence on the memory of the natural 
interest felt in any thing, already spoken of, is that it 
excites the attention. But, beyond this, we often, by a 
special effort of the will, concentrate the attention on 



MEMORY. 77 

something which we wish to remember. We do this 
in committing a lesson, or when we charge the memory 
with any thing, or attempt to pre-arrange any matter for 
recollection. In all such cases we fix the mind intent- 
ly, for a longer or shorter period of time, upon that 
which is to be remembered in connection with certain 
other familiar things which are likely to occur to us, 
and thus remind us of the thing desired. If one is 
going to a certain village, and wishes to obtain some 
article at a certain store, he thinks intently of the arti- 
cle and the store together, that, when he passes by the 
store, the sight of it may remind him of the article to 
be obtained there ; and the more intently and repeated- 
ly he thinks of them together, the more sure will be the 
remembrance. All artificial memory, so called, is 
effected in this way. The string that is tied upon the 
finger of the child must be made to mean something to 
the child, by calling his attention distinctly and repeat- 
edly to that which it is intended to suggest, before it 
can be of any avail. Such artificial arrangements are 
useful in many simple cases which every one practises ; 
but any extended system of mnemonics for recalling 
dates or historical facts by forced and artificial associa- 
tions is worse than useless, it being more difficult to 
retain the mnemonic symbols employed than the things 
themselves. 

10. As a speaker who had various points to present in his discourse 
might first visit the building in which he is to speak, and associate the 
different points with different objects in the audience-room ; so some of 
the earlier systems of mnemonics recommended the association of differ- 
ent things to be remembered with the different parts of an artificial pic- 
ture or drawing, or with different numbers or letters in a word. Gray's 
Memona Technica, one of the most elaborate systems of mnemon- 
ics, recommends, in order to remember dates, the association of the 



78 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

11. Of remarkable memories. — Some persons are 
endowed with wonderful powers of memory. Some 
clergymen are able, by reading over their sermons a 
few times before service, to repeat them verbatim from 
beginning to end. Seneca states that he could repeat 
two thousand words in their order upon hearing them once 
recited. He also says that Cyneas, the ambassador of 
King Pyrrhus to the Romans, in a single day so well 
learned the names of the people whom he saw, that the 
next day he saluted all the senators and all the people 
assembled, each by his proper name. Pliny says that 
Cyrus knew every soldier in his army by name, and 
L. Scipio all the people of Rome. Such wonderful 
powers of memory are very striking, and for this reason 
often prove a fatal gift by preventing all persistent and 
profound study. In such cases, too, the powers of 
memory are very apt to be greatly in excess of the 
other powers of the mind. It is only in the very best 
minds that all the powers attain any thing of this ex- 
traordinary efficiency. But, however great the feats of 
memory, they are all accomplished through the opera- 
tion of the two laws already so often referred to. 
Such minds recall what they remember by the usual 
associations ; only, by a keener perception and greater 
concentration of the attention, they make them much 
more rapidly and securely : though it is usually found 
in such cases that the whole series of remembered objects 



different letters in the alphabet with certain numbers, and then so to 
change the historical names connected with the dates as to suggest 
them. Thus : If the letter a be placed over 1, and the letter i over 3, 
and t under it, so as to be associated with each other by being seen and 
studied together, and then Alexander be changed to Alexandria, it will 
suggest 331, — the date of the founding of his empire. 



MEMORY. TO 

vanishes as soon as the effort ceases. By an extraor- 
dinary effort they are held securely for the occasion, and, 
as soon as this is past, vanish at once. 

12. The principle of similarity the most fruitful prin- 
ciple of memory. — Of the two principles for recalling 
our past experience or thoughts, the recurrence of the 
same and the recurrence of the similar, the latter is ob- 
viously of the widest application. There are many 
similarities among events and things to one sameness ; so 
that, to a mind with any aptitude for analogies at least, 
the like must recur with much greater frequency than 
the same. Both the same and the similar thought or 
object which is to recall another may recur by a fresh 
perception, or be itself recalled by the recurrence of the 
same or the similar in our previous thoughts ; thus pro- 
ducing the perpetual round of thoughts which we real- 
ize in our daily experience. Each principle, therefore, 
has a very wide application ; but the principle of simi- 
larity must be much the most fruitful. Indeed, it is by 
this principle that most of our remote thoughts are 
recovered, and frequently without any voluntary effort 
of our own. The oft-quoted case of reminiscence from 
Hobbes is of this kind. "In a discourse," says he, " on 
our late civil war " (i.e., in the time of Charles the First), 
" what could seem more impertinent than to ask, as one 
did, what was the value of the Roman penny ? Yet the 
coherence to me was manifest enough : for the thought 
of the war introduced the thought of delivering up the 
king to his enemies ; the thought of that brought in the 
thought of the delivering up of Christ ; and that, again, 
the thought of the thirty pence, the price of that trea- 
son." 

13. It is, however, doubtful if it be an indedendentprin- 



80 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

ciple of memory. — But although the recurrence of the 
similar is more fruitful in reviving other thoughts than 
the recurrence of the same, still it is doubtful if it be an 
independent principle of memory, or any thing more 
than a form of the recurrence of the same. The simi- 
larity which recalls some other object, thought, or feeling, 
is usually a likeness in a certain particular ; and may we 
not suppose that the similarity first recalls that particular 
in the other object, and then that particular recalls the 
rest of the object, on the principle of its having been 
before perceived in connection with the rest, as it must 
necessarily have been ? As, in perception, things sub- 
stantially alike make the same impression upon us, and 
are regarded as substantially the same, why may it 
not be so in memory, and hence the similar be taken for 
the same ? When I see a feature in a face, or any 
thing in the carriage of a man, like the same in a friend, 
it immediately reminds me of that friend. In such a 
case, there can be no doubt, I think, that I recall first 
the resembling particular in the friend, and then his 
whole person. 

14. Memory always starts from something present to 
the mind. — The process of memory, or recollection, 
being such as it has been described above, it is obvious 
that it must always start with something now present to 
the mind, — either a present perception, or a present 
thought suggested by something antecedent to it. The 
call to recite will start one in the process of rehearsing 
a series of words which he has been studying as a task ; 
and so the desire to recover something lost will incite one 
to run over in memory the whole course of a journey 
on which he supposes he lost the article. If we are 
inquired of whether we remember any particular event 



MEMORY. 81 

which lias faded from the memory, or if for any reason 
we wish to revive, our recollection of such an event, we 
always begin by searching in the mind, as we say, for 
something to start with. The process is well stated by 
Longinus, in a passage quoted by Hamilton : " For as 
dogs," says he, " having once found the footsteps of their 
game, follow from trace to trace, deeming it already all 
but caught ; so he who would recover his past thoughts 
from oblivion must scrutinize the parts which remain to 
him of those thoughts, and the circumstances with which 
they chance to be connected, to the end that he may 
lio-ht on something which shall serve him as a starting- 
point from whence to follow out his recollection of the 
others." 



SECTION II. 



THEORIES OF MEMORY. 



1. Memory is not a recognition of impressions on the 
brain. — Such being the conditions of memory, — viz., 
that nothing can be recalled, or re-introduced into the 
mind, except by the recurrence of something formerly 
perceived or thought of in conjunction with it, or of 
something similar to it in some respect, — how may the 
process be best accounted for ? What theory will best 
explain the facts ? In the first place, it is obvious that the 
popular representations of the condition and connection 

14. It is evident that we cannot recall any thing % a direct effort of 
the will. We may put ourselves upon a search for something by an act 
of the will ; but we can reach the object desired only by falling upon 
something in our search which shall suggest what we are in quest of. 



82 INTELLECT UAL PHILOSOPHY. 

of our thoughts among themselves are no explanation 
of the facts of memory, but are rather misleading than 
otherwise. Our perceptions are often spoken of as 
inscribed or engraved upon the mind, or as leaving im- 
pressions upon the brain. But neither of these repre- 
sentations is even intelligible in itself, and does not at all 
account for the recurrence of our thoughts in memory. 
If the mind is of a spiritual nature, how can ideas be 
inscribed upon it ? and how can the myriads of percep- 
tions and feelings of which we are conscious leave im- 
pressions on the brain which can be distinguished from 
each other? The experience of a single day would pro- 
duce inextricable confusion there. But, supposing it so, 
it does not explain at all why these impressions are 
recognized by the mind only on the recurrence of some 
associated or similar thought. If they are there, why 
should they not be continually recognized ? 

2. Ideas are not bound together by any real tie. — So, 
too, our ideas are often spoken of as having an attraction 
for each other, as bound together by some tie, as stored 
away in the mind, as committed to the memory, and the 
like ; or the mind or the memory is spoken of as reten- 
tive, tenacious, &c. The effects, indeed, are very much 
as though these representations were true, and we can 
hardly avoid such language when speaking of the phe- 
nomena of memory ; but they do not explain any thing. 
The question still remains, why our ideas are bound 
together by such fixed ties as we find them to be, and 
what is really meant by the tenacity, retentiveness, &c, 
of the mind. What is meant, for instance, by com- 
mitting any thing to the memory, or charging the 
memory with any thing, as we say ? Do we really 
consign it to the memory, as one of the compartments 



MEMORY. 83 

of the mind for safe keeping, till called for ? Certainly 
not. We rather associate it or think of it with special 
attention in connection with something which we sup- 
pose likely to attract our notice, or fall in our way about 
the time we wish to recall the object to be remembered, 
and thus remind us of it. Suppose, for instance, I have 
written a letter, which I wish to drop into the post-office 
at a certain hour. I either place it where I expect to 
be at that time, so that it may attract my notice ; or I 
think of it in connection with some object, place, or 
duty, which is to occupy my attention at that hour, and 
will thus remind me of it. The effort which we make 
in any case of memory evidently is not directly to retain 
our thoughts in the mind, but rather so to connect them 
with other thoughts or things, by fixing the mind upon 
them in conjunction with each other, that the recurrence 
of one will recall the others. The fact, then, is, that our 
thoughts are bound together by being in the mind to- 
gether ; and w r e are to inquire why this should be so. 

3. Memory not explained by the law of redintegration. 
— Is memory explained by what has been called the law 
of redintegration, or the tendency of the mind to restore 
all the particulars which have been before united in a 
single mental state on the recurrence of one ? This, at 
most, can be regarded as only a comprehensive state- 
ment of the general laws of association, and indeed a 
statement less simple and less exact than the ordinary 
statement of those laws. But the statement of a law 
or a fact is surely no explanation of it : it merely de- 
scribes what the mind does, or has a tendency to do, 
not why it does it. To say that the mind, on the re- 
currence of a single particular, has a tendency to restore 
all the other particulars which have been united with it 



84 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

in a single mental state, is to say nothing more than 
that it has a tendency in such a case to restore all that 
on a particular occasion had been in the mind together ; 
thus wholly leaving out the law of similarity. Though 
supported by great names, and favored by Hamilton, I 
can but regard this famous law as a defective statement 
of the facts, and as very far from explaining them. 

4. Nor by President Porter's principle. — Is the co- 
herence of our thoughts which have been in' the mind 
together explained by the principle propounded for its 
explanation by President Porter ? (" Human Intellect," 
p. 282) : viz., " that the mind tends to act again more 
readily in a manner or form which is similar to any in 
which it has acted before, in any defined exertion of 
its energy." . . . u This tendency explains the prin- 
ciple that underlies the laws of association." Increased 
facility, it is true, whether in thought or action, 
does result from habit; but habit is not formed by 
a single repetition : and how does it happen that a co- 
herence among our ideas is established by a single 
association ? and why do only those thoughts follow each 
other which have before been in the mind together ? 
All our experience, of course, must occur at some place 
and time, and some associations may be formed at each ; 
but, as place and time are continually changing, more 
of our experience must be separated in these respects 
than conjoined. And yet those experiences which occur 
at different places or times do not tend to recall each 
other, how r ever often they may thus occur. If I witness 
a murder in one place, and a wedding in another, the 
thought of one has no tendency to introduce the other; 
but, if I witness them both together, the thought of one 
will be pretty sure to revive the thought of the other. 



MEMORY. 85 

It is only when perceptions at different times and places 
are like each other in some respect that they tend to 
recall each other, as where the thought of a wedding 
witnessed at one place might recall the thought of a 
festival at another, they having certain points of simi- 
larity. It seems, then, that while the energy of the mind 
is more frequently exerted in perceiving things in dif- 
ferent places and times, yet only those things which are 
perceived together tend to recall each other. It is clear, 
therefore, that the above principle is not sufficient to 
account for the coherence of our thoughts in memory. 

5. May be explained by the repetition of the organic 
action which took place at the original perception. — In 
short, I know of no principle which at all accounts for 
the reviving of our thoughts in memory, unless it be 
that of an actual repetition in each case of the same 
action in our organism which occurred at the original 
perception of the object remembered, and of that by 
which it is remembered. If, in accordance with a sug- 
gestion already made (see sect. i. 13), we may consider 
the similar as equivalent to the same, then the universal 
condition of memory will be, that nothing can be recalled 
which has not previously been in the mind with another 
thought or thing now present to the mind. Now, if we 
trace back our thoughts to their origin, we shall find 
that they represent things ; and these things, when first 
perceived, we must suppose, produced a certain effect, 
or caused a certain action in the organism ; which action, 
by the theory now under consideration, is supposed to be 
renewed or repeated in every case of memory. It is 
universally admitted that there is a certain action in the 
organism connected with every perception ; and we may 
well suppose that this action is different when two or more 



86 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

tilings are perceived in conjunction with each other, from 
what it is when they are perceived separately. Now, 
we have only to suppose this action to be renewed on 
the recurrence of one of the conjoined objects to account 
for all the facts of memory. In this case memory is but 
a second perception, reviving in the mind the previous 
perception. But there is still a difficulty in seeing why 
the whole of the complex organic movement should be 
renewed on the presence or thought of only one of the 
several objects which were originally perceived together, 
and still more why in so many cases the movement is not 
renewed at all on the perception or thought of one of 
the conjoined objects ; since it is well known that we 
never recall more than a small fraction of those things 
which have been perceived together. 

6. This by far the most conceivable theory, and the dif- 
ficulties not insuperable. — This theory, then, though by 
far the most conceivable, is not without its difficulties ; 
and, besides, is often objected to on other grounds. It 
is regarded by many as tending to materialism. But the 
mind is confessedly dependent upon the action of the 
organism in perception ; and why may it not be in recol- 
lection ? That the organism is the medium of the mind 
in perception by no means proves that there is no mind : 
and why should it be thought to prove or imply this, if 
it be found that the organism is its medium in recollec- 
tion? A percipient power beyond and above the 
organism is plainly implied in both cases, and especially 
in recollection ; since what is recollected is recognized 
as something which has been perceived before. There 
must, therefore, be a permanent percipient principle, 
existing not only now, but then. In like manner, the 
objection sometimes made to this theory of memory, that 



MEMOEY. 87 

it cramps and confines the movements of the mind in 
association, restricting it to those necessary rounds 
which our experience awakens in our organism, does 
not seem very weighty. The theory does not change the 
facts of memory, but merely attempts to account for 
these facts. Whatever freedom the mind really has in 
its associations remains untouched ; and, in point of fact, 
it must have as much freedom and spontaneous action 
here as it has in perception. As we can disregard or 
turn away from hurtful objects which are presented to 
us in perception, so we may from the like thoughts 
presented or suggested by memory ; and as the mind, 
of itself, forms its idea of an object on the action of the 
organ in perception, so it must re-form or re-present this 
idea on the recurrence of the same action in memory. 
The action of the organism can no more constitute the 
idea in the one case than in the other. And as to rigid- 
ness in our associations, the more fixed and certain they 
are the better, provided they are wholesome ; and, in 
order that they may be such, it is only necessary that 
our lives should be upright and pure. 

6. Even J. S. Mill, who seems to be a sort of materialistic nihilist, 
in his "Examination of Sir William Hamilton's Philosophy" (vol. ii. 
p. 261), makes the following concession : "If, therefore, we speak of the 
mind as a series of feelings, we are obliged to complete the statement 
by calling it a series of feelings which is aware of itself as past and fu- 
ture ; and we are reduced to the alternative of believing that the mind, or 
ego, is something different from any series of feelings, or possibilities of 
them ; or of accepting the paradox, that something which ex hypothesi 
is but a series of feelings, can be aware of itself as a series." — In our 
present state of existence, it is probable that the mind is not wholly in- 
dependent of the organism in any of the processes of thought ; and, in the 
future life, we are told in Scripture that we shall be furnished with a 
more refined or spiritual body, which may serve the same purpose there 
that our gross body does here. 



88 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

At the same time, it should be stated, that this theory 
best accounts for the abnormal operations of memory and 
imagination in an excited state of the nervous system, 
arising from capricious movements in the organism, 
which seem to be mistaken by the mind for real sensa- 
tions caused by external objects. 

SECTION III. 
WHAT WE REMEMBER. 

1. The object remembered is suggested by something 
else present to the mind. — To remember any thing is 
to be reminded of it, or more exactly, to be put in mind 
of it again. It is the reviving again of a previous 
knowledge of something. It is not to have a direct 
present knowledge of any thing in itself, but to have a 
previous knowledge recalled. The mind, in memory, 
is not directly occupied with the thing remembered, but 
searches for something to suggest it. The external object 
remembered is never present within the sphere of sense, 
and is often very far removed from us, both in time and 
space. The mind, then, must really be occupied with 
its own thoughts. The thought of the object is sug- 
gested by some other thought present to the mind. 
Or if the remembrance be occasioned by the recurrence 
of the object itself, still, it is the object in our past ex- 
perience which is remembered, — the present perception 
of the object reminds us, at the same time, of a former 
perception of it, and recalls it as it was then per- 
ceived. 

2. Memory pictures out the thing remembered. — Mem- 
ory is an imaging out or thinking of something of 
which we have been previously conscious. If one re- 



MEMORY. 89 

fleets upon his state of mind in memory, especially in 
recollecting an object of sight, as, for instance, a family 
circle with which he has been familiar, he will find 
himself picturing out the whole scene and contemplat- 
ing it in all its minutiae. As, however, the object or 
scene, as far as it is distinctly recalled and dwelt 
upon, is always pictured out with its surroundings, or 
in its actual connections of time and place, as origi- 
nally perceived, it does not appear to be in the mind, 
but in the position of the thing itself; nay, almost the 
very thing itself. By a law of our nature, universally 
recognized, the representation is received as irresisti- 
ble evidence of our former perception of the object, and 
by the force of habit, we come to think only of that object. 
Thus, in the regular operation of those laws of our na- 
ture which the Creator has impressed upon it, our 
knowledge of the past, as far as it goes, becomes as 
simple, as vivid, and as reliable as that of the present. 
With this explanation of what memory is, both really 
and practically, we are prepared to consider, more par- 
ticularly, what objects are capable of being recalled in 
memory. 

3. We may thus remember objects perceived by sight. 
— It is quite obvious, then, at the outset, that we may 
distinctly remember objects which have been perceived 
by sight. Objects of sight being perceived under the 
illumination of light, and being apprehended as pictured 
forms, are easily imaged or represented to the mind in 
memory. A tree, a house, a human form, or any other 
visible object, stands out in memory, almost as dis- 
tinctly as in perception. The object remembered is not 
only as clearly conceived by the mind, but may be as 
clearly described to another, as if directly perceived. 



90 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

The mental image being the exact counterpart of the 
external object or scene, may, of course, be described in 
the same terms. 

4. Also objects perceived by touch. — It is universally 
conceded, too, that we may distinctly remember objects 
of touch. In the perceptions of this sense, also, the 
object is revealed as having a definite form and outline, 
and hence, like the object itself, may be distinctly de- 
scribed to another. The blind man who reads by 
raised letters, remembers the form of the letters as dis- 
tinctly as does the man who reads by his sight. But, 
as most objects of touch are also objects of sight, and, 
by those who have the use of both senses, are almost 
always actually perceived by the latter, they are, of 
course, more commonly recalled as objects of sight than 
as objects of touch. 

5. So, too, we may remember sounds. — It is generally 
allowed, also, that we can remember sounds. The per- 
son who, having heard a variation of sounds, as in a 
tune, repeats or imitates these sounds by his voice or 
on an instrument, must remember the original harmony. 
And yet we can form no such distinct image of sound, 
as we can of an object of touch or sight, and hence a 
sound cannot be adequately described to another, except 
by repeating it, or by a series of conventional signs, as 
musical notes, which have come, by usage, to have a 
given significance, like language. Still, sound being a 
particular phenomenon to the mind, possessing a spe- 
cific character or marks, must be susceptible of repro- 
duction in memory. Indeed, as a particular local 
affection of the organ of hearing, as a succession of 
impulses on the ear, it is not without physical elements, 
which are capable of being likened to objects of sight and « 



MEMORY. 91 

touch ; as, for instance, to a succession of waves, a rising 
or falling, a moving or shaking, of an object in space. 
At all events, we know that sounds are remembered, and 
that a musician can not only repeat a complicated va- 
riation of sounds which he has heard, but run over them 
in thought, without any accompanying sound. 

6. Nor can it be denied that we remember odors and 
flavors. — And if it be admitted that we remember 
sounds, I do not see how it can be denied that we re- 
member odors and flavors. These, too, as specific af- 
fections of the organs of smell and taste, are not with- 
out physical elements enough to give them local 
associations, and constitute the basis of a veritable 
representative image. At all events, they are specific 
phenomena to the mind, susceptible of such mental as- 
sociations as to be capable of being recalled. And 
there is abundant evidence that we do recall them even 
by their physical associations, as in the smacking of the 
lips, the snuffing up of the air, etc., which are often wit- 
nessed in persons when referring to certain tastes or 
smells. All recognize them, too, on their recurrence, 
which is virtually an act of memory. * The recurrence 
of the thing itself is substituted in place of the usual 
related thought. But the immediate recognition of 
it as what has been before perceived, shows the mind 
not to have lost its former knowledge of it. 

7. Feelings, etc., may also be remembered. — We may 
remember, also, all the various local affections, sensa- 
tions, feelings, and pains, of which we are conscious, as 
well as the various unlocalized emotions and states of 



* " If I be not mistaken, we must recur to repetition as an ultimate pi in* 
eiple of reproduction (i.e., in memory). " — Hamilton. 



92 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

the mind ; such as, on the one hand, the feelings occa- 
sioned by heat, cold, stimulants, narcotics, pressure, 
disorganization, disease, etc., and on the other, the emo- 
tions of fear, joy, compassion, and the convictions of 
truth, duty, etc. Many of these, as affections of certain 
organs or parts of the body, or being attended with 
certain physical perturbations, are remembered under 
local relations, and all of them are recognized at once, 
on their recurrence. 

8. Even a process of reasoning, as a series of steps, 
may be remembered. — In a certain sense, too, we re- 
member processes of reasoning. Reasoning itself, how- 
ever, is not, either as a new or as a repeated process, 
mere memory. Reasoning proceeds by the assent of 
the understanding to the truth of a series of proposi- 
tions, and in order to make it reasoning, there must be 
the same assent of the mind at every step, on its repe- 
tition. We may remember that we have before given 
our assent to the truth of a proposition, or a series of 
them, but unless we now give it, also, it is no reasoning 
to us. But the whole process, as consisting of a series 
of propositions assented to, or of steps taken by the 
mind, may be made as much an object of memory, as 
any thing whatever. 

9. This illustrated. — Thus it is that the public 
speaker fixes in his mind beforehand the chief points 
or propositions which he wishes to establish in his 
speech, and recalls them in order, as he advances, and 
establishes them, too, by subordinate propositions, also 
pre-arranged. Here, doubtless, the memory is aided 
by language, and the propositions may be, in part, 
suggested by their logical dependence. In like man- 
ner, also, the mathematician, by going over a demon- 



MEMORY. 93 

stration, fixes the successive steps of the process in his 
mind, so that he can recall them at any time. In this 
he is greatly assisted by diagrams or other symbols. 
The geometric construction, or other combination of 
symbols, is made to represent the process, and recall it 
whenever it is itself recalled. 

10. In short, we may remember any state of conscious' 
ness. — In short, it is evident that we may remember 
any simple or complex state of consciousness, and any 
mental experience whatever. There are none of them 
that are not so associated with something else, either 
external or internal, as to be recalled by the associated 
object or thought, and they all appear as old acquaint- 
ances on a fresh recurrence. Indeed, unless one is the 
most empty of nominalists, he must believe that every 
thing which has a name is recalled by the recurrence 
of that name, which serves as its representative, and 
often as a sort of description. 

11. But it is admitted that things visible and tangible 
are the most readily remembered. — But while all this 
is true, it is admitted that things visible and tangible 
are the most easily and vividly remembered. Not only 
can they be distinctly imaged by the mind, but they 
are capable of much more varied associations. The 
gradations and analogies among forms, places, and col- 
ors, are so numerous and obtrusive, that objects possess- 
ing extension, position, and color, are readily associated 
with a greater variety of things than any others, and 
consequently are more easily recalled. Hence, as much 
of our knowledge as possible should be introduced 
through the senses of sight and touch, or at least be 
represented by objects which address themselves to 
these senses. And here, again, we see the importance 



94 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

of diagrams, models, and symbols of all kinds, in im- 
parting knowledge. The mind not only apprehends 
knowledge more distinctly when thus presented, but 
retains it better. 

12. — What is meant by locating one in Memory. — 
On seeing a former acquaintance, we often experience a 
difficulty in recalling the place where we formed and en- 
joyed his acquaintance. The effort to do this is called 
locating him, and, when successful, makes the recognition 
much more perfect. 

SECTION IV. 
ASSOCIATIVE AND LOGICAL THOUGHT. 

1. Reminiscence and reasoning distinguished. — Rem- 
iniscence, as we have seen, is a movement or progress 
in thought from one particular to another, sometimes 
voluntary, and sometimes involuntary. In like manner, 
also, logical thinking is a discursive movement through 
a connected series of ideas. But logical thinking is 
chiefly, if not exclusively, voluntary. Besides, logical 
thought, or reasoning, proceeds by ideas as contained by 
and containing each other, respectively ; whereas rem- 
iniscence proceeds by ideas only contingently connected^ 
or associated, according to certain laws of mental sug- 
gestion, not as contained one under the other, or neces- 
sarily implying each other. Association, then, proceeds 
by contingent relations, reasoning by natural or neces- 
sary relations. The latter is a much higher kind of 
thought, as being regularly voluntary, and determined 
only by a perceived dependence among ideas. 

2. Tlie logical order of thoughts. — Among the ideas 



MEMORY. 95 

pertaining to any subject, there is a certain order to 
which the intellect assents as fit, appropriate, or true, 
as opposed to the casual order in which they occur in 
the promiscuous experience of life, and in which they 
are remembered. This is their natural order, or when 
the inquiry is after truth, their logical order. When- 
ever our thoughts on any subject are so arranged, that 
the intellect admits the sequence of one from the other, 
as where they stand related as means and end, premises 
and conclusion, cause and effect, part and whole, etc., 
they are arranged in their logical order. Ideas so ar- 
ranged are not so much a subject of memory as of 
thought. When viewed in these relations, the process of 
passing from one to the other is logical, not associative. 
The mind which feels the force of the reasoning traces 
the process logically the first time it goes over it, and 
equally so, though with increased rapidity and ease, at 
all subsequent times. 

3. Reasoning' is a subject of memory in its outward 
relations. — Still, as remarked in a previous section, 
when the steps of a reasoning are once drawn oat, they 
may, in their merely outward relations, be made matter 
of memory, and thus a semblance of knowledge be ob- 
tained, instead of the reality. For, besides that remi- 
niscence is vastly less reliable for recalling the steps of 
the process, than logical thought, the mind is only bur- 
dened by a succession of associated points, instead of 
being enriched by a series of dependent thoughts lead- 
ing to some important conclusion. Hence so much 
importance attaches to our arranging our thoughts on 
all subjects as much as possible in their logical order, 
that they may become matter of inspiring thought, 
rather than a mere dead weight of details upon the 
memory. 



96 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

4. All science is arranged in the logical order. — • 
And it is surprising how large a part of the materials 
of thought may be thus arranged. All science natu- 
rally arranges itself thus. The treatment of any subject 
becomes a science, only as its materials are arranged in 
their knowable order, which is their natural or logical 
order. The materials of every science must be ar- 
ranged under the relations of means and end, prem- 
ises and conclusions, media and proof, part and whole, 
cause and effect, or of some other necessary or mutu- 
ally implied relations. 

5. History may be so arranged to a considerable ex- 
tent. — And even history has been said to be but " phi- 
losophy teaching by examples. 7 ' At first its materials 
seem to be only a confused mass of facts, and such they 
probably always remain to most minds. But when 
profoundly studied by a mind of a philosophical turn, 
they soon begin to marshal themselves as causes and 
effects, principles and illustrations, means and ends, and 
the like. History, when understood in its internal na- 
ture, is not merely a succession of events connected by 
the thread of time, but a dependent succession, con- 
nected by the thread of thought. 

6. So may even geography and much of the common ex- 
perience of life. — So, too, of geography and the daily ex- 
perience of life, much is capable of being connected by 
a thread of dependent, and not merely associated 
thought. We have no occasion to remember that large 
cities are upon the coasts, rivers, and the great chan- 
nels of communication ; we know that in the nature 
of things they necessarily must be. For their particu- 
lar locations on these coasts, etc., and their individual 
names, we rely upon memory, as we must for all indi- 



MEMORY. 97 

vidual, isolated facts. But in all the great subjects of 
study and attention, there is an internal connection of 
parts, an underlying theory, which really explicates the 
whole nature of the subject, and which is traced by 
thought proper, rather than by memory. 

7. Incoherence of thought an evidence of a diseased 
mind. — As the result of the law T s of association and 
logical thought, the ideas of the mind, in a healthy 
state, always have a certain order and coherence about 
them. Any considerable degree of incoherence in the 
thoughts is always taken as evidence of a diseased 
state of mind. Insanity is but a wild incoherence of 
thought, and the ravings of the maniac only a setting 
at naught of the ordinary laws of associative and logi- 
cal thinking. 



SECTION V. 
IMPORTANCE OF MEMORY. 



1. All our faculties are necessary for the complete- 
ness of knowledge. — Absolutely, memory is as indis- 
pensable to the general purposes of thought and of life 
as any other faculty. No faculty can be dispensed 
with ; they are all necessary for the acquisition, the 
retention, and the arrangement of knowledge. The 
facts received by the senses are preserved by the mem- 
ory, and arranged and reasoned upon by the other fac- 
ulties. The loss of either of the faculties would be 
fatal to the completeness of knowledge. Indeed, it is 
not quite clear that any one of the faculties can act 
without the co-operation of some of the others. At all 
events, it is certain that in our mature experience, not 



98 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

only does one sense greatly assist another, but one fac- 
ulty, also, another. Still, the different faculties have 
different, and, in the main, distinct offices to perform, 
which must relatively, at least, differ in importance. 

2. But relatively memory is inferior to perception. — 
Relatively, then, memory is inferior in importance to 
perception. It is not, like perception, a receptive fac- 
ulty. It does not, like that, furnish the primitive ma- 
terials of thought, nor indeed, any original materials. 
It is simply the faculty of retaining or recalling what 
has been furnished by the senses and our internal ex- 
perience. We might have a passing knowledge of 
facts without memory, * but without perception, we 
could have no knowledge at all. Memory is wholly 
dependent upon perception, but not perception upon 
memory. 

3. Also to reason. — In the scale of the human facul- 
ties, memory ranks below the reason, also. It cannot 
be said, indeed, that reason is wholly independent of 
memory in its operations, although the logical relations 
of things, as we have seen, are traced by the reason 
alone. The assistance rendered by the memory here, 
is in bringing the related objects before the reason 
and holding them before it till their mutual dependence 
is perceived and felt. All comparison and judging of 
relations between ideas necessarily involve memory. 
But reason is the distinguishing endowment of man, 
and must, therefore, be higher than either perception or 

* Hamilton makes memory a condition of perception. But if so, how 
could there ever be a first perception, since there can be no memory an- 
tecedent to experience ? Doubtless memory greatly assists perception, 
in our mature experience, but perception cannot be wholly dependent 
upon its co-operation. 



MEMORY. 99 

memory, which are possessed by the lower orders of 
animals. Its movements are more independent, being 
determined by its own spontaneous energy, rather than 
from without. 

4. Experience shows this. — The attempt so often 
made, by a certain order of minds, to make memory do 
the work of reason, shows its vast inferiority to that 
godlike power. Memory attempts to retain knowl- 
edge as a succession of facts barely associated together 
by contingent relations, while reason arranges them 
according to their relations of mutual dependence, and 
thus connects them by a line of thought, which can be 
traced at any time. And although a vast amount of 
knowledge may be retained by the memory, when thus 
taxed with a double duty, yet it is comparatively unin- 
structive, and rests like an incubus upon the mind, pre- 
venting all free and fruitful action. 

5. But memory is not an unimportant power, as ap- 
peal's from its connection with the imagination. — But 
memory, in its proper office, is far from being a use- 
less or unimportant faculty. As a reproductive power, 
it seems to be generically the same as imagination. 
The only difference between the two powers is, that 
memory recalls perceived objects as wholes, precisely 
as they occurred to sense ; while imagination repro- 
duces them disconnected from their surroundings, or 
in fragments, or variously mixed and compounded, so 
that they are no longer simple representations of what 
has been perceived, though always made up of the ele- 
ments of what has been perceived. Memory, then, is 
of the same general nature as imagination, but is evi- 
dently an inferior energy. It is wholly confined to 
things as perceived, while imagination creates new forms 



100 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

from perceived elements. Hence, though a good mem- 
ory may exist without a fine imagination, a fine imag- 
ination must always be accompanied by a good mem- 
ory. When the representative faculty rises high enough 
to constitute a lofty imagination, it must necessarily 
embrace the lower energy of memory ; though it may 
rise high enough to constitute a good memory, without 
reaching the elevation necessary to a fine imagination. 
And this we find to be the case in fact. A man with 
a vivid imagination always has a good memory, though 
we often see persons with a good memory who have 
but an indifferent imagination. Memory, therefore, 
though often existing without genius, and far from 
being a uniform sign of genius, necessarily accompa- 
nies it, as far as genius consists in extraordinary powers 
of imagination. 

6. Its importance is best seen in practical life. — But 
it is in practical life that the importance of memory 
appears the most conspicuously. The details of every- 
day life must mainly be committed to the memory. 
They cannot, to any great extent, be arranged in the 
order of mutual dependence, and thus be recalled by 
logical thought ; they can generally be reached only 
through association and habit. This is especially the 
case in the heterogeneous and multifarious duties of 
private and business life. And even the professional 
man and the scholar must rely largely on the memory 
in the prosecution of their duties. After all that can 
be done in arranging their knowledge in its logical 
order, there must necessarily remain a vast amount of 
detached and loose material, hovering within the sphere 
of their action, and essential to their success, which can 
be connected only by association, and recalled only by 
memory. 



MEMORY. 1(J1 

7. Memory is all-important in its place. — Memory, 
therefore, though not relatively one of the very highest 
endowments of the mind, is yet 5 in its place, a highly 
useful power, and deserving, like all the other faculties, 
of the most assiduous cultivation. What has dispar- 
aged memory most, is the attempt, so often made, to 
substitute it for reason, and make it do its work. Such 
an attempt is always unsuccessful, and exposes mem- 
ory to reproach. Besides, as it is entirely unnatural 
and out of place, such an attempt seems to imply a 
want of reason in the one who makes it, and hence be- 
gets a contempt for an order of mind in which memory 
is largely developed. Memory, like the other faculties, 
is most honored and improved when confined to its 
proper sphere, and within that, tasked to the utmost on 
ail occasions requiring its use. 



CHAPTER IV. 

IMAGINATION. 

SECTION I. 
NATURE OF IMAGINATION. 

1. Imagination distinguished from other powers. — - 
"Imagination* or Phantasy," says Sir W. Hamilton, 
"in its most extensive meaning, is the faculty represen- 
tative of the phenomena both of the external and inter- 
nal world." Imagination is thus distinguished gener- 
ically from perception and self-consciousness, which 
are faculties presentative or intuitive, — the one of the 
phenomena of the external, and the other of those of 
the internal world. On the contrary, imagination and 
memory are distinguished from each other only spe- 
cifically. They are generically alike, in both being rep- 
resentative faculties, — specifically different, inasmuch 
as memory represents an object with its surroundings 
as it actually came into the mind ; while imagination 
represents an object out of its original connections, or 
in some way distorted, or combined with other im- 
ages. 

2. Imagination and memory. — In consequence of 

* " The Latin imnginatio, with its modifications in the vulgar languages, 
was employed both in ancient and modern times to express what the 
Greeks denominated QavTaoia. Phantasy, of which Pliancy, or Fancy, 
is a corruption, and now employed in a more limited sense, was a com- 
mon name for Imagination with the old English Writers." — Hamilton. 

102 



IMAGINATION. 103 

this difference between memory and imagination, the 
representative thought in the former is taken as the un- 
doubted counterpart of what actually has been, while 
in the latter it is taken only as a representation of what 
possibly may be. Hence, the one involves an absolute 
belief in the (former) existence of the object as repre- 
sented, while the other does not. The images, in 
imagination, are recognized as mere images. When 
I remember any object, as a house, a tree, a tune, 
I think of it with its surroundings, just as it came 
into the mind ; but when I simply imagine such an ob- 
ject, I disconnect it from its surroundings, and give it 
any position, or conjoin it with any other object, as I 
choose. Thus, I can imagine a tree inverted in the 
air, an anthem chanted by angels, or a human face at- 
tached to the neck of a horse. 

3. Imagination only combines perceived elements. — 
Imagination, however, is limited for its materials to 
what has been actually perceived, either by external or 
internal perception. It creates no new elements of its 
own. It can combine the elements received through 
perception in innumerable forms and proportions — can 
variously attenuate, spiritualize, idealize them, — but 
can never wholly transcend them. Centaurs and 
Sphinxes, as well as the infinite succession of images 
presented by poets and other imaginative writers, are 
all composed of materials furnished by perception 
and self-consciousness, — only variously arranged, com- 
pounded, diminished, distorted, sublimated, or ideal- 
ized. The giant of the imagination is only a man 
enlarged, and the Venus of Praxiteles, or the Fairy 
Queen of Spenser, only the ideal of all that is fair in 
woman. 



104 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

4. The images of the imagination are concrete. — 
Hence, too, the images of the imagination must always 
be concrete in form. Things are perceived only in their 
concrete form, and the representations of the imagina 
tion being wholly composed of the elements of per- 
ceived objects, — not of an abstract of their qualities, — 
must also be concrete. The most extravagant and gro- 
tesque images of the Oriental imagination, embodied in 
their monsters or gods, are but the exaggerated forms 
of various heterogeneous parts, limbs, organs, etc., com- 
bined into certain fantastic wholes. The thinking of 
abstract or generalized ideas is conception, * not imag- 
i nation. 

5. Images are either drawn from the inspection of 
objects, or are suggested. — Sometimes we form these 
images from a direct inspection or recollection of the dif- 
ferent objects from which they are compounded. Thus 
the sculptor forms his ideal image of the perfect human 
form which he wishes to represent, from a combination 
of the most perfect limbs, organs, lines, and features., 
which he has observed in different persons. So the 
painter forms his fancy landscape by combining in his 
picture the most attractive features in the different 
scenes which he has witnessed. But in other cases, 

* This is in accordance with the better usage of philosophers ; though 
Mr. Stewart makes conception merely that form of imagination which 
consists in reproducing, without change, what has been previously per- 
ceived. Conception, as the act of thinking, realizing, or construing some- 
thing to the mind, is of the same general character as imagination, and 
hence is often used in referring to the thought of individual, concrete 
things, especially of such as really present no adequate image, as sounds, 
flavors, and odors ; or where the image is reached through a process of 
comparison and combination, as in case of the ideal embodied in a work 
of art, or the hypothesis by which the different parts of the solar system, 
or other related phenomena, are connected in the mind. 



IMAGINATION. 105 

images come to us ready formed, being suggested by- 
something present to the mind. The unreal images 
of the imagination, like the real images of memory, 
and the thoughts and feelings of our rational and emo- 
tional nature, are suggested, or recur, according to fixed 
laws and relations, such as those already described in 
the chapter on memory. 

6. The images contained in figures of speech are sug- 
gested. — It is in this latter way that the images con- 
tained in figures of speech are awakened. In thinking 
or writing upon any subject we fall upon ideas which, 
by resemblance, contrast, or the relations of cause and 
effect, part and whole, etc., suggest other ideas or im- 
ages, which are either directly introduced as illustrations 
of the thought under consideration, or, by the use of 
some term which is applicable to the related rather 
than to the main thought, are suggested to the mind of 
the reader or hearer. Thus, in speaking of the period 
of youth, I may be reminded, by resemblance, of the 
spring, and say directly, in the form of an illustrative 
comparison, " youth, like the spring, is fresh and bloom- 
ing," or, on the same principle of resemblance, I may 
be reminded by it of the opening of day, and say of it, 
by a metaphor, " youth is the morning of life." And 
thus of the other figures of speech, used more or less 
by all writers, but especially by those of the imagina- 
tive sort, and treated of in books on Rhetoric. 

7. These images come either voluntarily or involunta- 
rily. — And here, too, as in reminiscence, the suggested 
images either come unbidden, or only after a predeter- 
mined search. They always come involuntarily in 
sleep, and for the most part, also, in our waking hours. 
But not unfrequently, in thinking or writing upon any 

11* 



108 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

subject, having brought the discussion to a certain 
point, or having reached a certain idea which seems 
specially to require illustration or adornment, we halt, 
and cast about for some image fitted to illuminate or 
beautify it. This must be done to some extent by all 
writers, and especially by those of no more than ordinary 
liveliness of imagination, in any elaborate or finished 
style. Thus Demosthenes, wishing to animate the 
Athenians in their contest against Philip, and inspire 
them with confidence in the favor of the gods towards 
the city, notwithstanding some recent reverses, closes a 
series of observations on the subject by the following 
apt and striking illustration, which condenses the whole 
spirit and force of what he had previously said into a 
single burning point: "I think it is with the favors 
of the gods as with the gifts of fortune ; if w T e retain 
and improve them, we retain also our gratitude for 
them ; but if we misimprove and lose them, we at the 
same time lose our gratitude — our state of mind in 
each case being very much determined by the last 
event." 

8. Fancy as distinguished from imagination. — The 
lighter, more airy, more capricious movements of the 
imagination are called fancy. An image is said to be 
fanciful, when it is not suggested by an obvious, natu- 
ral, substantial similarity, which is approved on reflec- 
tion as sound and important, but by some casual, facti- 
tious, unobvious, slight, shadowy, or recondite similar- 
ity, which occurs only to minds of a peculiar cast, or to 
the ordinary mind, only in its gayer, more sportive and 
fantastic moods. The fancy forms such characters as 
Ariel and Queen Mab, the imagination such as Cala- 
ban, the Satan of Milton, or the Mephistopheles of 



IMAGINATION. 107 

Goethe. The Paradise Lost is more the work of the 
imagination, the L' Allegro and H'Penseroso, of the 
fancy ; the plays of Skakspeare and the discourses of 
Jeremy Taylor are woven of materials supplied about 
equally by each. 

9. Fane?/, conceits, ivit, etc. — Fancies are the play- 
ful, subtile, evanescent, witching, and often, affected 
and extravagant, images of the imagination. At the 
same time, Conceits are only affected fancies, and Wit, 
which aims at producing pleasurable surprise, by plac- 
ing words or images in unexpected or unusual relations 
to each other, works chiefly by this faculty. So, the 
Ludicrous and the Grotesque, which depend upon odd 
or fantastic conjunctions among ideas, are but the 
wanton freaks of fancy. 



SECTION II. 
USES OF THE IMAGINATION. 



1. Imagination one of the chief constituents of genius. — 
In order to the possession of any thing which deserves 
the name of intelligence, knowledge must, at least, be 
obtained, preserved, and arranged. Sense, memory, and 
understanding, therefore, are absolutely indispensable to 
any proper intelligence. Imagination, however (as dis- 
tinguished from memory), does not seem to be thus ab- 
solutely essential to intelligence; and hence, more minds, 
perhaps, are deficient in this power, than in any other. 
This, however, does not prove imagination to be an in- 
ferior gift, but rather the reverse. We might live and 
know without it; but our life becomes nobler, and our 
knowledge grander with it. The intelligence which 



108 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

has simply the least number of powers necessary for 
knowing, is the lowest form of intelligence, and every 
additional power, as being a rarer, is also a higher, gift. 
Thus it is with the imagination, — it is among the 
higher and diviner gifts of the mind. It is one of the 
chief constituents of genius. 

2. Is of great service in conversation. — But to pro- 
ceed to particulars ; the imagination is of great service 
in conversation. As one could not converse at all with- 
out memory, so he cannot converse well, i.e., with any 
elegance or force, without imagination. Any topic of 
conversation is comparatively barren of interest, and 
soon exhausted, if considered simply by itself, or only in 
its commonest relations. But when amplified, by fol- 
lowing it out in its logical connections, by clustering 
about it associated thoughts, and illustrating and adorn- 
ing it by appropriate comparisons, figures, and images, 
drawn from the wide range of analogies throughout na- 
ture, the dryest subject becomes attractive. As con- 
versation is best when somewhat discursive, proceed- 
ing from one related thought to another in an easy and 
graceful manner, and drawing in materials from a wide 
range of objects, no faculty is more serviceable to the 
converser than the imagination or fancy. Its light and 
airy movements buoy up the mind and bear it along 
with nimbleness through pleasing and deversified fields 
of thought. 

3. Is of great service to the orator. — Imagination is 
of great service to the orator ; not so much, however, 
in giving a light discursiveness to his thoughts, as in 
giving them vividness and life. The Orator must think 
thoroughly and systematically, but the line of his 
thoughts must be illuminated and vivified through its 



IMAGINATION. 109 

whole extent by the imagination. The source of this 
life and power, doubtless, is passion, but passion 
arouses the imagination and opens its storehouse of 
images. The figures of the orator are chiefly what 
rhetoricians call figures of passion, i.e., figures of the 
imagination called forth by passion. They are of the 
vivid, the strong, and the illustrative sort, rather than 
of the calm and beautiful. 

4. Illustrated from Demosthenes. — The object of 
the orator is, to carry his hearers with him, — to make 
them converts to his ideas and purposes. Hence, he 
must secure their attention, must make his ideas palpa- 
ble and vivid and convince them that he is thoroughly 
in earnest. Beyond the simple power of logical 
thought, his most important auxiliary for doing this is 
the imagination. Thus, to quote again from that most 
cogent and earnest of orators, and master of the illus- 
trative comparison; Demosthenes, having exhausted all 
his power of direct appeal and argument in attempting 
to arouse the Athenians from their tardy and fitful 
policy in opposing Philip, closes an indignant strain of 
remark upon that point by the famous comparison of 
the unskilful boxer : "O Athenians! your contest with 
Philip is like that of unpractised boxers against their 
antagonists ; who, struck in one place, cover it with 
their hand, — struck in another, place their hand there ; 
and thus, always occupied with the blows they receive, 
know not how to strike and defend themselves." 

5. The imagination is a great aid to the poet. — The 
imagination is a great aid to the poet. It is by 
this power, more than by all others, that the genuine 
poem is made. A true poem is but a tissue of vari- 
ous and softly blending images drawn from "all that 



110 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

is fair and bright" through the universe. Selecting 
some of the loftier, more affecting, or more interesting 
themes, the poet, as he advances, traces in imagina- 
tion the long lines of analogies, both material and 
spiritual, connected with each succeeding thought, and 
instinctively appropriating such images as are best 
calculated to beautify and ennoble his theme, sets 
them as gems in the general ground of his subject. 
Those striking and pleasing ornaments, which sparkle 
thus on the pages of Homer, of Shakspeare, of Milton, 
and other great poets, are all the work of the imagina- 
tion. 

6. Also to other classes of writers. — And thus, to 
some extent, of all writers. There are few species of 
writing which are not improved by an occasional figure 
of the imagination. The philosophical style, perhaps, 
should wholly eschew tropes, but there is no kind of 
style which does not admit of, and which may not be 
greatly improved by, the illustrative comparison. In 
the treatment of almost any subject, there are points 
in the progress of the thought where an illustrative 
comparison, founded upon some striking analogy, 
may be made to illuminate the whole matter. These 
a good writer always feels the need of at such points, 
and if they do not occur to him at once, searches for 
them in his imagination. 

7. Is indispensable to the artist. — Imagination is in- 
dispensable to the artist. Painters and sculptors, even 
more than poets, have to do with images. Where they 
copy direct from nature, they must first form in the 
mind a connected image of the object or scene. But 
in the higher efforts of art, the object or scene is always 
more or less ideal ; i.e., it is a model formed in the im- 



IMAGINATION. Ill 

agination, composed, indeed, of elements which have 
been perceived, but so selected, arranged, and retouched 
by the fancy, as to be more perfect than ever actually 
occurs in any one object or scene in nature. Without 
this there can be no high art. An imagination capable 
of forming appropriate ideals is an indispensable requi- 
site for an artist. (N. 7, p. 253.) 

8. Is a great assistance to the student of nature. — 
The imagination, also, is a great assistance to the stu- 
dent of nature. All objects, and systems of objects, in 
nature, have a certain conformity and relation of parts, 
and all agents, a certain definite mode of operation, 
which we must be able to form a correct image of. be- 
fore we can understand either the objects or their rela- 
tions, or the operation of agents. The manner in which 
we image out to ourselves these objects, their relations, 
and modes of action, constitutes our theory, hypothesis, 
or conception, * in the case. When our conception is 
proved to be in accordance with all the facts in the 
case, it is no longer hypothesis, but knowledge. Thus, 
the Ptolemaic conception of the solar system was grad- 
ually changed and purified, till in the mind of Newton 
it was brought into conformity with nature, and is now 
familiarly illustrated by a concrete sensible illustration, 
in the orrery. In reaching such a result, the imagina- 
tion performs an important part. The physical philos- 
opher succeeds in interpreting nature, just in proportion 
to his capacity of forming correct conceptions of the 
relations and modes of action between objects and 
agents, from hints, analogies, etc. 

* Called conception, because reached through a process of comparison 
and combination, though there is really nothing but a concrete image 
formed in the case. See Sec. 1. note 2d. ; also n. 8. p. 253. 



112 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

9. Also to the student of geometry, geography, and 
history. — In a similar way, the imagination greatly as- 
sists the student of geometry, of geography, and of his- 
tory. Geometric figures, whether applying to the heav- 
enly bodies, to the earth, or to empty space, consist of a 
certain combination of lines, surfaces, and angles, con- 
stituting a definite outline or form, which must be dis- 
tinctly imaged as a whole in the mind before they can 
be constructed, or understood in their application, or 
even well retained, supposing them already constructed 
to our hand. Consequently, the success of the student 
of geometry must depend largely upon the facility with 
which his imagination pictures the outline and relation 
of parts in a figure. So in geography and history, 
one's ideas must always be extremely vague and inad- 
equate, and his progress but small, unless he readily 
catches the image of coasts, rivers, mountains, cities, 
costumes, fortifications, plans of campaigns, lines of 
march, orders of battle, and the general figure and rela- 
tions of men and things on the earth, from such hints 
and descriptions as can be conveyed by language. 

10. Imagination of less service to the abstract thinker. — 
The mere thinker or speculator in abstract truth, and 
things wholly immaterial, is less assisted by the imagi- 
nation than any other class of men. As the imagination 
deals only with the concrete, we should expect it would 
be of the least service in abstract reasoning. But even 
abstract subjects require, in their development, concrete 
means of proof, and thus need the aid of the imagination. 
Hence, w r hile it is of no little service to the abstract thinker 
and reasoner, the imagination, as is implied in whai; has al- 
ready been said, is of the greatest importance to the 
inductive discoverer, as well as to the analogical and 



IMAGINATION. 113 

general reasoner. In such kinds of reasoning there is 
a demand for something besides logical inference. 
There is room for the play of the imagination, and it 
plays with the best effect in suggesting media of proof 
and means of illustration. The discursive power of the 
mind lies wholly in the imagination (including the 
memory) and the reason ; and all invention, discovery, 
and advancement of the boundaries of thought, as well 
as the enriching and beautifying of our ideas, depend 
upon these powers. 



SECTION III. 
TRAINING OP THE IMAGINATION. 



1. The imagination needs chastening as well as 
strengthening. — The great influence of the imagina- 
tion, both for good and for evil, on our intellectual hab- 
its and pursuits, makes its proper training an object 
of the utmost importance. On the one hand, it needs 
strengthening and developing, on the other, curbing 
and chastening. If it be well to have a ready and vig- 
orous imagination, it must still be subject to reason and 
taste. And while it is strengthened, like the other facul- 
ties, by use, it is chastened by being used only in sub- 
ordination to the dictates of reason and taste. Now, 
there are three ways in which the imagination may be 
used, and thus strengthened and improved, when used 
aright. It may be employed in forming and contem- 
plating the images presented by the objects of nature, 
or those suggested by the waitings or works of men, or 
in combining and embodying these in works of our 



114 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

own. Each is a useful exercise of the faculty, though 
differing somewhat in their effects. 

2. It may derive images direct from nature. — What- 
ever we perceive, and, more especially, whatever we 
perceive by the eye, by the ear, or by the touch, leaves 
its image in the mind, or rather is capable of being im- 
aged by the mind afterwards. Wherever we go, there- 
fore, among the works of God, we are filling the im- 
agination with images. The hills, the vales, the 
mountains, the forests, the rivers, the ocean, the sky, 
abound in objects whose images may be used in illus- 
trating and adorning our ideas, or be embodied in works 
of art for the instruction and admiration of others. 

3. But these are valuable only ivhen the result of 
careful observation. — But it is not sufficient simply to 
ramble among the works of nature. One may do this 
and get but little that is valuable. Only those im- 
ages are of much value which are true to nature, and 
hence characteristic. The variety of nature is endless 
and inexhaustible, so that it has been said, that no two 
leaves, even from the same tree or shrub, are exact fac- 
similes of each other in the lines which variegate the 
surface. Hence, a writer whose imagination is filled 
with imagas which are exact copies of natural objects, 
will never fail in variety and freshness. But to obtain 
these, nature must be closely scrutinized, and every ob- 
ject be perceived exactly as it is. This, of course, can 
be done only by the most careful and accurate obser- 
vation. Hence, again, we see the vast importance of 
having an ever-wakeful attention, wherever we are, and 
however engaged. He who is much abroad among 
the works of nature, and observes objects with a care- 
ful and wakeful attention, is filling his mind with an 



IMAGINATION. H5 

inexhaustible store of the most pleasing and useful 
images. 

4. The imagination may be improved, also, by the 
study of books and art. — The imagination is im- 
proved, also, by reading books, and contemplating 
works of art. The writings of men, — especially those 
of the imaginative sort, as fiction and poetry, — and the 
various creations of art, embody the best conceptions or 
combinations of images of which the human imagina- 
tion is capable, and hence are most useful studies for 
the improvement of this faculty. These, however, and 
particularly as presented in books, are to the reader 
but suggested images. They are, at best, but images 
at second-hand, — images of images, — and hence, nec- 
essarily more or less imperfect, inadequate, and indis- 
tinct. This they would be, supposing them to have 
been original and exact in the mind of the writer who 
employs them ; but a large part of them have come 
down, as commonplaces, through a long series of writers, 
one borrowing them from the other, till they have lost 
all freshness and point. They are no longer the dis- 
tinct, characteristic images of nature, but only their dim 
and wasted ghosts. No book, therefore, nor work of 
art even, can be compared with nature as a study for 
improving the imagination, and too many of these pro- 
ductions tend rather to pervert than to improve the 
power. 

5. And most of all in combining images for works 
of our oivn. — Again, we improve our imagination by 
embodying its images in works of our own, or, more 
properly, by employing it in forming images for the 
purpose of embodying them in some production of our 
own. In the previous cases, the imagination is com- 



116 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

paratively passive, but here it is decidedly active. The 
artist who is at work in forming and embodying his 
ideal, and the poet, or other writer, who sends forth his 
imagination, at every step, in quest of some appropri- 
ate image to illustrate or adorn his ideas, is exercising 
his imagination in the most effectual way. The other 
methods furnish the imagination with the materials for 
its images, this practises it in producing and combin- 
ing them, as the case requires. And, as is the case in 
the exercise of the other faculties, every creative effort 
of the imagination strengthens it for another effort of 
the same kind, till at length we acquire a facility in 
calling images to our aid, as we need them, which 
astonishes ourselves. 

6. But the imagination should be subject to a sound 
taste. — But the imagination does not need strength- 
ening alone, it needs chastening. It will be to little 
purpose that we are able to call up images, if they are 
not appropriate. Improper images employed by a 
writer are worse than no images at all. A strong im- 
agination, without a just taste, is a dangerous power. 
Hence, the imagination should never be cultivated to 
the neglect of the taste, but only in connection with 
and in subordination to it. It is the special province 
of taste to control the imagination in the use of ima- 
gery. Without this the imagination becomes grotesque 
and fantastic. 

7. Also to an enlightened reason. — Nor should the 
imagination be allowed to override, or in any way 
to interfere with, reason. Bishop Butler, who was a 
sturdy thinker, calls the imagination a " forward, delu- 
sive faculty, ever obtruding beyond its sphere." And 
this, undoubtedly, is its tendency. If the reason be not 



IMAGINATION. 117 

cultivated and made to assert its authority, the imagi- 
nation usurps its place, and substitutes its wild and 
empty images for truth. It does this with the savage, 
and with all, just in proportion as the cultivation of 
their rational powers is neglected, so that they are in- 
capable of distinguishing truth from fancy. 

8. Otherwise it interferes with thinking. — As already 
remarked, any great vigor of imagination is probably 
of little service to the mere deductive reasoner or in- 
vestigator of abstract truth. It would, of course, be 
an aid to him in setting forth the results of his inves- 
tigations in a popular way to others, but as a mere in- 
vestigator of truth in its logical and abstract relations, 
it is rather a hinderance than a help to him. To such 
a one, it is truly a " delusive faculty." It not only 
thrusts forward its vain images for truth, but by its 
wild and capricious habits of association, often diverts 
the attention, and draws off the mind from the direct 
line of thought. 

9. And becomes wild and fantastic. — While, there- 
fore, it is necessary to strengthen and cultivate the im- 
agination, it is necessary at the same time to cultivate 
the other powers, and especially the taste and the rea- 
son, to which it owes subordination. If these be hot 
cultivated in conjunction with it, the imagination being 
unrestrained, runs riot, and does violence to all propri- 
ety and truth. 



CHAPTER V. 

CONCEPTION. 

SECTION I. 

NATURE OF CONCEPTION. 

1. Definition of conception. — Conception means 
taking together, in allusion to the common marks or 
attributes of different objects, which are taken together 
or thought as one nature, in the act. Conception de- 
notes both the power of thus grasping the common 
nature of different related objects, the act of doing it, 
and the result or product of the act ; though the latter 
is sometimes, and more properly, called a concept. Con- 
ception, therefore, corresponds to the Simple Appre- 
hension of the Logicians ; and the concept, as embrac- 
ing certain attributes and hence characterized by certain 
marks, means the same as Notion, or General Notion, 
which is kindred to the Latin notce (marks). 

£. Nature of the cognition in conception. — Conceiv- 
ing, then, is cognizing objects, not by their individual 
features and peculiarities, as is done in perception, but 
by certain common features, to the neglect of individ- 
ual peculiarities. It is thus rather thinking of objects, 
than perceiving them. The concept, being indifferently 
applicable to any one of a class of related objects, rep- 
resents no particular object existing in time and space, 
but only some possible object. But its marks or attri- 
butes must not be contradictory of each other, so that 

118 



CONCEPTION. 119 

we cannot think them together, and hence cannot sup- 
pose them capable of co-existing in any object what- 
ever. Standing thus as the representative of no one 
particular object, the concept is capable of being fixed^ 
so as to be reproducible in thought, only in some repre- 
sentative sign, as a word, or other symbol. Concepts, 
then, have no specific embodiment except in general 
terms, or common names. In the operations of thought, 
they are regularly suggested or recalled by these, and 
indifferently applied, as the case may require, to any 
individual of the class designated by the term. 

3. A concept cannot be representedin a concrete image. 

— But although the concept is thus fixed, or individu- 
alized, in a common term, and is capable of being ap- 
plied in thought to any one of the class of objects 
whose common attributes it includes, still, as not em- 
bracing the special nature and peculiarities of any par- 
ticular sensible object, — i.e., as not being a simple 
intuition of some one object, — it is incapable of being 
itself presented in a concrete image. As, however, the 
concept embraces only compatible attributes, it is al- 
ways capable of individualization in a possible object 
of intuition, and is often so individualized in its appli- 
cation to the different objects of the class which it rep- 
resents. In such application, when consciously and 
formally made, the imagination presents the individual 
to which it is made ; as where the general concept of 
man is applied to this or that particular man. This, 
however, is imagination, not conception. 

4. How we may have a concept of a general triangle. 

— Hence we see how we may have such a concept as 
that of a general triangle, which is neither equilateral, 
isosceles, nor scalene, and yet is virtually each and all 



120 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

of these. It is obvious, at once, that there can be no 
such general notion of triangle as shall, at the same 
time, embrace all the possible varieties of triangle. A 
triangle which shall be at once oblique and rectangle, 
equilateral and scalene, is clearly inconceivable, since 
it is required that it have contradictory attributes, which 
cannot be thought together. It was on this ground 
that such a general notion was rejected by Hobbes, 
Berkeley, Hume, etc. But no such concept is contended 
for by any intelligent advocate of general notions. In- 
deed, such a concept, were it possible, would not be a 
general notion, as it would embrace the special features 
of triangles of all forms. All that is required is, that 
there should be such a general notion of a triangle as 
is capable of being applied in thought to every form of 
the triangle at different times, as occasion requires us to 
reason about this or that sort of triangle. Such a con- 
cept of a triangle is simply that of a figure having three 
sides and three angles, without any regard to the spe- 
cial character of those sides and angles. 

5. It is not generally necessary to individualize our 
concepts in using them. — But in using our concepts in 
thought, it is not generally necessary to individualize 
them. In the majority of cases we make no attempt 
to realize the concept either in an actual or possible ob- 
ject of intuition. We, in fact, substitute general terms 
for general notions, and use them in our judgments 
and reasoning, very much as we do algebraic symbols. 
Thus, though I cannot individualize my general con- 
cept of triangle, except as equilateral, isosceles, or sca- 
lene, I can judge and reason about a triangle, without 
making any attempt to conceive it in its specific charac- 
ter. But the individualization of a concept, at least 



CONCEPTION. 121 

in a possible object of intuition, is the true test of its 
logical correctness. If its attributes cannot be thought 
together, the concept must be rejected as illegitimate. 

6. Logical and real concepts. — Logically, then, any 
concept not embracing contradictory attributes is legit- 
imate. Such a concept is a legitimate form of thought, 
whether true to nature or not. As there is nothing 
contradictory in the combination of attributes, we can 
as easily, and hence, in a logical sense," as legitimately, 
conceive the particles of matter repellent of each other 
as attracting each other. But metaphysically, or really, 
conceptions are true or false, according as they corre- 
spond or not with the facts of nature. Thus, a person 
never having seen water congealed, might conceive it 
as necessarily fluid, which, not embracing all the essen- 
tial facts in the case, is a false conception. Hence the 
truth of our conceptions depends upon the extent and 
accuracy of our knowledge of objects. 

7. What is conceivable is possible, but not necessarily 
the reverse. — Whatever is conceivable we regard as 
possible. As it is construable to thought, as there is no 
difficulty in our thinking it, we can see nothing insu- 
perable in the way of its being realized. What we 
can think, we are constrained to believe that Almighty 
Power might render actual. And even what we can- 
not think, we do not necessarily consider as beyond the 
reach of Almighty Power to realize ; so that inconceiv- 
ability is not regarded by us as equivalent to impossi- 
bility. (N. ]). 253, bottom.) 

8. Limit to the application of the term conception. — 
Conception being the contemplation of the internal 
character of a class of related objects, and thus, in a 
general sense, the construing to thought, or the viewing 



122 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

in connection with each other and as consistent with 
each other, of various attributes and relations, we may 
be said to conceive a judgment, a process of reasoning, 
a system composed of various co-ordinated or subordi- 
nated parts, a machine, or other structure embodying 
abstract ideas and relations. But conception should 
not be used in so wide a sense, as is often done by Dr. 
Reid, as to include under standing ', comprehending, sup- 
posing, assuming, etc. We may understand the state- 
ment that a part is greater than the whole, but we 
cannot conceive the relation assumed in the judgment. 
We may suppose or assume that two straight lines en- 
close space, but we cannot conceive the relation implied 
in the sentence. 



SECTION II. 
FORMATION OF CONCEPTS. 



1. We first distinguish individual things. — - In our 
first perceptions, especially by sight, different objects 
are regarded only as variations in, or different parts of, 
one whole. By degrees, these variations are distin- 
guished as different objects, and more or less of their 
qualities perceived, varying with the sense employed in 
their perception. And in time, by the use of our dif- 
ferent senses and powers, we acquire a knowledge of 
all the properties of an object which we are capable of 
acquiring. The knowledge thus acquired of an indi- 
vidual object, whether at once or by repeated efforts, is 
called an intuition. 

2. We then combine them in classes. — In the mean 
time, we have perceived a large number of objects, 



CONCEPTION. 123 

which, from a natural tendency of the human mind to 
disregard differences, are distributed into classes accord- 
ing to their substantial resemblances, the individuals 
of each class being recognized as virtually the same and 
being designated by the same name. Thus objects are 
rudely classified almost unconsciously. But reflection 
follows the unconscious process, and confirms or cor- 
rects its results, as the case may require. We thus 
come, at length, even in ordinary perception, almost 
wholly to disregard the individual features of classified 
objects, and in conceiving or thinking of the class by its 
type, to fix exclusively on certain attributes common to 
all the individuals, while all others are neglected as 
non-essential. 

3. And then combine classes into one. — Our con- 
cepts, in the course of observation and reflection, are 
continually becoming more and more accurate, and 
more and more extended, exhibiting a constant ten- 
dency to higher and higher generalizations. The pri- 
mary concepts which we form from limited observation 
are gradually enlarged with our growing experience, by 
admitting to the class other and still other kindred 
classes of objects, till the general class embraces vari- 
ous subordinate classes, each having its separate type, 
but all coinciding in certain interior common attributes. 
Thus the notions which we form from observation of 
the rose, lily, violet, etc., are afterwards united in the 
more general concept of flower; while the notion of 
flower, tree, fern, etc., are embraced again under the 
still wider concept of plant And thus our concepts 
embrace wider and still wider circles of objects, tend- 
ing ever towards the absorption of all things into one 
grand unity, the summum genus, Substance or Being. 



124 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

4. Breadth and depth of concepts. — In this grada- 
tion of concepts, it is obvious that the higher or wider 
the concept, the greater the number of objects and the 
less the number of attributes which it embraces ; as 
the concept of plant, while it embraces more objects 
than that of tree, embraces them only by assuming 
fewer attributes to express the common nature of the 
class. In the language of logic, higher concepts have 
greater breadth, or a wider extension or sphere, while 
lower concepts have greater depth, or more intention, 
comprehension, or matter (qualities). 

5. Hence conception grows out of perception. — It 
thus appears that conception grows out of perception. 
The percept lies at the root of the concept. Concepts 
are secondary notions generalized from perceptions. 
This is accomplished through comparison, as far as it 
is a conscious process. The common attributes of 
different objects are discovered by placing them side 
by side in our mental view, and considering them in 
comparison with each other. But the withdrawing of 
the attention from all except the common attributes 
of the different objects, by which the generalization is 
effected, is called abstraction. However, even this is 
possible only through comparison. 



SECTION III. 
KINDS OF CONCEPTS. 



It will tend further to elucidate the nature of con- 
ception, to enumerate and describe some of the princi- 
pal classes of concepts or notions. Our concepts are 
either distinct or confused, adequate or inadequate, sym* 



CONCEPTION. 125 

bolical or notative, primary or secondary, positive or neg- 
ative ^ irrespective or relative, abstract or concrete, neces- 
sary or contingent. Each of these classes of concepts 
may receive a few words of explanation. 

1. Distinct and Confused Concepts or Notions. — A 
notion is said to be distinct, when we can distinguish 
its marks or attributes and enumerate them. Thus, the 
notion of a bridge is a distinct notion, for we can read- 
ily discern and declare its attributes, as is done in the 
definition, " a bridge is a structure over any collection 
of water, resting on supports, and designed for the pas- 
sage of men or beasts." Not that such notions are 
necessarily distinct in all minds, but they are capable 
of becoming so. A confused notion, on the contrary, 
is one whose attributes cannot be distinguished, such 
as our notions of space, time, red, love, or of any other 
simple intuition or feeling. Such notions are clear 
enough, but being without distinguishing marks, they 
are said to be confused or indistinct. They are often 
called simple notions. 

2. Adequate and Inadequate Notions. — Notions are 
said to be adequate, when not only their attributes, 
but the attributes of these attributes, can be distin- 
guished and enumerated, — and the attributes of these 
again, as far as our purpose requires. Thus, if percep- 
tion be defined, "a mental energy by which we acquire 
a knowledge of an external world," we enumerate its 
attributes ; and the notion becomes adequate, when we 
explain, in turn, what is meant by " a mental energy," 
by " acquiring a knowledge," and by " an external 
world." When such explanation cannot be given, the 
notion is inadequate. 

3. Symbolical and Notative Concepts. — Symbolical 



126 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

concepts are notions so complex, and embracing so 
many attributes, that the full extent of their meaning 
is not usually realized in employing the terms by which 
they are designated, the words being really used as 
substitutes or symbols in place of the ideas. Such 
words as state, virtue, universe, etc., are of this sort. 
These and many other general terms are constantly 
used without either speaker or hearer realizing any 
thing like the full conception which they designate. 
Indeed, all familiar concepts are practically, in a great 
measure, symbolical. After we have once formed a 
concept, we think but little of its elements, but take 
the general term by which it is designated as a substi- 
tute for the thought. But where the attributes of a 
concept are quite simple and obtrusive, so that they are 
readily realized, as in the concepts of book, box, tree, 
etc., it is said to be notative. 

4. First and Second Notions. — First notions, as the 
term implies, are the simple, unmodified concepts which 
we form of things, or classes of things, as they stand 
in nature ; such concepts as have thus far been de- 
scribed in this chapter. But when these primary con- 
cepts come to be thought of out of relation to the 
objects which they represent, and only in relation to 
each other, i.e., when they come to be handled purely 
as materials of thought, they are viewed by the mind 
under a new aspect. Under this new form they become 
second notions. Thus, the first notions of Thomas, 
man, animal, etc., can be thought of in relation to each 
other only as individual, species, genus, etc. Hence 
first notions are such as those of tree, plant, stone, horse, 
etc., while second notions are such as those of individ- 
ual, genus, species, premise, conclusion, syllogism, and 



conception. 3 27 

other concepts of concepts, or " names of names," as 
Hobbes calls them. As second notions are the forms 
which first notions assume when they are thought of 
in relation to each other, Logic is said to have to do 
wholly with second notions. 

5. Positive and Negative {or Privative) Notions. — A 
positive notion is any notion which possesses positive 
attributes or marks. Such are all the classes of notions 
thus far spoken of, and indeed, all notions except nega- 
tive notions. Negative notions, then, are character- 
ized by a want of attributes or marks. They are but 
the implied counterpart or reflection of positive notions. 
Every positive notion suggests a counter negative no- 
tion, and these together make up an entire sphere ; as 
kindness and nnkindness, good and not-good, animal and 
not-animal, material and immaterial. All such negative 
notions are merely conceived as destitute of the attri- 
butes of the positive notions to which they correspond. 
Such notions, however, are not without their value. 
They supply a negative for every positive, and give us 
a glimpse of what is unknowable even, by shadowing 
it forth as the counterpart of what is known. Of this 
nature are all our conceptions of the infinite and ab- 
solute. 

6. Irrespective and Relative Notions. — Irrespective 
notions are such as do not imply or suggest any other 
notion, as, for instance, the notions of horse, tree, flower, 
and indeed, the great body of our notions. Relative 
notions, on the contrary, are those which usually or al- 
ways occur to our minds in pairs, the one seeming nec- 
essarily to imply the other. Such are the notions ex- 
pressed by the words debtor and creditor, parent and 



128 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

child, male and female , young and old, true and /a?$e 
etc. Positive and negative concepts are also relative 
notions. 

7. Abstract and Concrete Notions. — -All concepts 
are abstractions, but certain concepts are technically 
known as abstract, in comparison with others which 
are called concrete. Abstract notions are qualities 
viewed under a substantive form, or apart from the 
subjects to which they belong. These qualities may 
either be of a general nature, such as belong to various 
classes of things, as whiteness, roughness, justice, etc ; 
or such as belong to only a single class of beings, as 
humanity, royalty, etc. But when these qualities are 
directly attributed to existing beings or things, our 
notion of them is said to be concrete, as when we speak 
of the white snow, the just man, human nature, man, 
king, etc. 

8. Necessary and Contingent notions. — What are 
commonly called necessary notions are more properly, 
perhaps, either necessary intuitions, or necessary judg- 
ments. Our ideas of space, time, causality, etc., can 
be considered concepts, only as they extend the quali- 
ties presented to us in their respective intuitions to all 
possible time, space, etc., and hence, in a certain sense, 
are generalizations. On the contrary, the various log- 
ical and mathematical axioms are rather judgments 
than concepts. Strictly, therefore, all concepts are con- 
tingent, except such as are necessary in that very lim- 
ited sense implied in the fact, that our perceptions 
having been such and such in regard to any class of 
objects, our conceptions are necessarily in accordance 
with our experience. 



CONCEPTION. 129 



SECTION IV. 
THEORIES OF CONCEPTION. 



The controversy about general notions is one famous 
in the history of philosophy, and has been marked by 
three distinct theories on the subject; denominated, 
respectively, realism, nominalism, conceptualism. 

I. REALISM. 

1. Wliat this theory holds to. — According to this 
theory, concepts have a real objective existence, inde- 
pendent of the mind conceiving them, and even of the 
objects in which alone they appear to us. They are 
neither mere modifications of the mind, nor combina- 
tions of qualities in objects, apprehended by the mind 
and abstracted from them. They are to be regarded, 
rather, as proper representative objects, mediating be- 
tween the mind and the phenomenal world. They are 
thus only a peculiar form of the representative ideas, 
which figure so largely in the history of philosophy. 

2. The Platonic view. — According to Plato, the 
phenomenal world (i.e., all external objects) addresses 
itself only to the sensitive soul (as he calls it), and gives 
rise merely to sensations, not perceptions. All that is 
really perceived is ideas, and hence objects are per- 
ceived only as they participate in these ideas. These 
ideas he regards as existing actually in the mind of 
God and as having determined him in creation, — they 
being the types or models after which all things were 
made ; but only potentially in the mind of man, as he is 
only conscious of them as elicited by experience ; i.e., 
by the recurrence to sense of various phenomenal ob- 
jects which are the embodiments of these ideas. Thus 



130 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

the ideal world was the only real world ; all the rest 
was only changing, fleeting, phenomenal. These views 
of Plato were adopted by his followers among the 
Schoolmen of the Middle Ages, and employed by 
them, especially, as a theory of conception, or an ac- 
count of general notions, — though conception and per- 
ception are all the same, on this theory. 

3. Criticism of the theory. — This theory of concep- 
tion (like the corresponding theory of perception) errs, 
in assuming the existence of actual, representative en- 
tities in thought, which are not mere modifications of 
the thinking mind itself, — -i.e., real mental apprehen- 
sions reached through experience. It substitutes rep- 
resentative ideas for thoughts proper. Conceptions, 
thoughts, are indeed real, both in the mind of God and 
in the mind of man, though not distinct, real entities, — 
certainly not in the mind of man. God has stamped 
certain types upon things, and man reads them there. 

II. NOMINALISM. 

1. What the theory is. — This theory does not deny 
that we apprehend certain common qualities in dif- 
ferent objects, and classify them accordingly. It only 
contends that these common qualities are none the 
more general, for being perceived in several objects, — 
that they always stand in the mind, as perceived in 
some particular object of the class, but accompanied by 
the consciousness that they belong equally to every in- 
dividual of the class. All the generality, therefore, 
which there is in such notions, consists in the idea of 
relation to various individual objects, which is in- 
volved in them. 



CONCEPTION. 131 

2. Further developed and illustrated. — The nomi- 
nalist, therefore, holds, that strictly, there are only gen- 
eral terms, notions being always singular. In other 
words, that in employing general terms, or words which 
designate classes of things, the object before the mind 
is always individual, only accompanied by the con- 
sciousness that this individual object is like various 
other individual things in certain qualities or respects. 
There can be, therefore, no such general notion, as was 
formerly contended for by some philosophers, which 
embraces the distinctive characteristics of every indi- 
vidual of a class, yet so generalized as to apply to no 
one in particular; as, for instance, of a triangle, which 
is at the same time rectangular and oblique, equilateral 
and scalene, and yet neither the one nor the other. 
This is now generally admitted^ and the only difference 
between nominalists and conceptualists seems to be, as 
to whether the mind in using general terms always and 
necessarily calls up individuals, or is concentrated, as 
far as it realizes any thing beyond the word, upon the 
bundle of qualities common to the class, abstracted 
from any and all particular objects. The latter is the 
view of the conceptualist, and as it seems to me, the 
true view. (N. II. 2, p. 254.) 

III. CONCEPTUALISM. 

1. What the theory is.—^ This is the theory of con- 
ception described in the previous sections of this chap- 
ter, and that now more commonly held by philosophers. 
According to this theory, general notions exist, indeed, 
but only as thoughts, or products of the mind. They 
are mere formal representations of classes of objects, 
constructed by the mind from its observation of their 



132 



INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 



common marks. They are thus but mental modifica- 
tions, or thoughts of certain attributes common to 
classes of objects. 

2. The use of general terms according to this theory. 
— Doubtless language is of great use — nay, indispen- 
sable, even — in conception, as in other mental opera- 
tions. When we have formed a concept, we give it 
a name, which fixes and records it, and thus preserves 
it for future use. This name, ever afterwards, stands 
as the sign of the concept, and recalls it whenever it 
occurs. Some of these general terms are mere arbi- 
trary signs of the things signified, and some of them 
contain in their etymology some allusion to the quali- 
ties represented by them ; as, animal (something hav- 
ing life), vegetable (something that grows), happiness 
(something which we owe to hap or fortune) ; so also, in- 
ertia, gravitation, isomorphism, homoeopathy, etc. Thus, 
as Aristotle remarks, general names are often only ab- 
breviated definitions. 



SECTION V. 



IMPORTANCE OF CONCEPTION. 



1. Conception compared with perception. — Concep- 
tion, as we have seen, is apprehending, or grasping to- 
gether, the marks or characters which constitute the 
common nature of classes of related objects. By ? 
ception we become acquainted with the qualities ci 
individual objects, by conception we form notions of 
classes of objects. In perception the qualities are all 
directly given in a single individual object, in concep- 
tion the common qualities of many different yet related 



CONCEPTION. 133 

objects have to be abstracted by a reflex mental effort. 
Conception, therefore, requires a much higher mental 
energy, and hence is a much more difficult process. If, 
then, men often use their senses so poorly that their 
perceptions are inadequate and indistinct, how much 
more danger is there of their conceptions being so ? 

2. All our higher knowledge depends upon the ade- 
quacy of our conceptions. — At the same time, all our 
higher knowledge depends upon the adequacy and dis- 
tinctness of our conceptions. As accurate perceptions 
are necessary, in order that we may have the materials 
for forming accurate conceptions, so accurate concep- 
tions are necessary, in order to an adequate knowledge 
of all above individual things. All the knowledge*ex- 
pressed by general terms, as indicating more than a 
single object, all that is reached by judgment or the 
longest process of reasoning,* depends upon the accu- 
racy and adequacy of our conceptions. If our concep- 
tions are inadequate, not only is our knowledge of 
classes of objects, and of all general and abstract ideas, 
defective, but our inferences and deductions from them 
are unreliable. And how large and important a portion 
of knowledge is thus affected, may be seen by consid- 
ering how few of the ideas which form the staple of 
our thoughts are expressed by proper names or singu- 
lar terms. 

3. Fruitful knowledge is not the knowledge of words, 
but of things. — When knowledge becomes a mere 
knowledge of words, and philosophy only a series of 
logomachies, they must necessarily be devoid of fruit. 
It was so in Bacon's time, who, with his usual felicity, 

* Thinking is defined by Mansel (Prolegomena Logica, p. 22) as "the 
act of knowing or judging of things by means of concepts." 



134 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

pointed out the cause in a single word, by saying that 
science had become so unfruitful, because it had lost 
its root in nature. The leading Schoolmen, who 
brought on this state of things, were either nominalists 
or realists, both of which views tend to carry off the 
mind from nature, and entangle it in barren subtleties. 
Knowledge becomes fruitful only as our words are 
merely the signs of distinctly formed concepts, filled 
with a living content, direct from nature. The mind 
is enriched only as it grasps the reality of things. To 
show the importance of conception, let us take a few 
illustrative cases from the sciences. 

4. Illustrations from astronomy. — Astronomy fur- 
nislfes many forcible illustrations of the importance of 
conception in the study of nature. Nothing is more 
familiar to us than the phases of the moon, and yet 
how inadequate the conception, in most persons, of the 
actual relative positions of the sun, earth, and moon, 
from which those successive phases result; and how 
impossible it would be for them to represent and ex- 
plain these relations to another, and deduce the phe- 
nomena from them ! One may even have solved all 
the mathematical questions pertaining to the subject, 
and obtained the formulae which express all the. facts, 
as thousands have done, and yet have no adequate no- 
tion of the thing itself — no mental picture of the ac- 
tual relations of the three bodies from which the phases 
arise. So one may be able to calculate an eclipse, 
without really conceiving the relation of the bodies 
from which it arises ; nay, may have mastered, perhaps, 
the formulae of the Mechanique Celeste, without hav- 
ing any thing more than the vaguest conception of the 
real mechanism of the heavens. The solution of such 






CONCEPTION. 135 

questions by the algebraic method does not necessitate 
the actual formation of the implied concepts, nor is a 
true and vivid conception of all the facts and relations 
involved in the case always reached, though they are 
much more likely to be, even by the geometrical method 
of solution. 

5. Illustrations from other sciences. — Other sciences 
furnish scarcely less forcible illustrations of the impor- 
tance of conception. What knowledge is conveyed to 
us by the term " stereographic projection," or by the 
mere process of finding the formulae which apply to it, 
if we do not actually form a conception of the thing 
itself? How are we profited by the terminology of 
Chemistry, Geology, Natural History, Physiology, or 
Psychology, unless we actually form the conceptions 
indicated by the different terms ? Merely to learn the 
words and repeat them from memory is of no avail. 
They must be apprehended in their meaning in order 
to enrich the mind at all. And so in all cases. There 
is nothing in which men fail more than in forming dis- 
tinct and accurate conceptions, and no more defective 
education than that which encourages a mere knowl- 
edge of words, rules, and formulae, to the neglect of 
ideas. 






CHAPTER VI. 

JUDGMENT. 

SECTION I. 
NATURE OF JUDGMENT. 

1. What judgment is. — Judgment is the power of 
viewing one concept as being (or not being) equivalent 
to or a part of another concept. Without this power 
our concepts would remain isolated, each being viewed 
by itself, without any connection between them. It is 
by the judgment that their relations are perceived, and 
that they come to be regarded as equivalents or parts 
of each other. Thus, having a concept of man and of 
changeableness, I perceive that changeableness forms a 
part of my concept of man, and therefore say, " man is 
changeable,'' or " changeable man." So we say, " man 
is a rational animal," " man is not immortal," " a tree 
is a plant," etc. 

2. Meaning of the word "part" in the above definition. 
— In the above definition, the term part is used in its 
most general sense, as denoting any thing belonging to. 
According to Aristotle, every judgment declares either 
the genus, or the definition, or the property, or the acci- 
dent of its subject. In the first case, the idea expressed 
by the predicate contains the subject as a part, in the 
second, the two ideas are equivalent, and in the others, 
the predicate expresses a quality (property or accident) 
of the subject ; as, " man is an animal," " man is a ra- 

136 



JUDGMENT. 137 

tional animal," " man is a warm-blooded animal," " life 
is sweet." 

3. Possible judgments. — Whatever concepts are 
united in a judgment must be regarded as holding one 
or the other of the above-named relations to each other. 
When, therefore, any two concepts which do not admit 
of such a relation are brought together in the form of a 
judgment, the judgment is inconceivable. We often 
have occasion to use such judgments, but only as sup- 
positions. Though inconceivable in themselves as 
positive judgments, they are possible forms of thought, 
and quite conceivable as assumptions. Thus, for the 
purposes of demonstration, we may suppose a square to 
be a triangle, the three angles of a triangle to be greater 
or less than two right-angles, two straight lines to en- 
close a space, etc. These and the like, are intelligible 
as suppositions, though not as positive judgments. 

4. Conceivable judgments. — A judgment is conceiv- 
able only when the relation asserted to exist between 
the two concepts is conceivable. It is not sufficient, as 
seen above, that the form of expression be intelligible, 
so that we comprehend the relation assumed; to make 
a judgment conceivable, it must be capable of being 
construed to the mind, of being thought as possible, of 
being brought into a consistency of representation. 
No such consistency of representation is possible in 
such a judgment as " a square is a triangle ; " but that 
" man is mortal," " sugar is sweet," or that " space 
may exist either occupied or unoccupied by material 
objects," may be easily construed to the mind. 

5. True judgments.-— A true judgment is one which 
is according to the facts of nature. It expresses what 
is known as true. It is not enough, in this case, that 



138 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

the relation asserted between the two concepts should 
be conceivable, it must be real. " Men are infallible," 
is a judgment entirely conceivable in itself, though far 
from being true. But the propositions, " men are falli- 
ble," " two straight lines cannot enclose a space," are true 
judgments, being in accordance with what we know, 
either from experience or intuitively. In all forms of 
judgment both concepts are known, but in true judg- 
ments, the assumed relation of the concepts, also, is in 
accordance with what we know. 

6. Judgment implies comparison. — Judgment, of 
course, implies comparison. The relation which is as- 
serted or denied to exist between two concepts, can 
have been perceived only by comparing them together. 
When one asserts, " snow is white," he implies, that, 
in comparing his notion of snow and whiteness, he per- 
ceives that the quality belongs to that subject. But in 
that affirmation by the mind, in all its operations, of the 
existence of some object before it, either real or ideal, 
which Sir W. Hamilton calls an " assertory judgment," 
and Mr. Mansel, a " psychological judgment," there is no 
proper comparison ; it is only the assertion of an imme- 
diate state of consciousness. Thus, when I assert that 
there is a real object before my mind in perception, and 
an ideal object before it in imagination, I only assert 
what I am immediately conscious of, — there can be 
no comparison in such a case, except it be that of some- 
thing with nothing. 

7. Depth and breadth of judgments. — When the re- 
lation between the two concepts in a judgment is 
viewed as existing between the marks or attributes 
which they embrace, the judgment is regarded in its 
intension, comprehension, or depth ; but when between 



JUDGMENT. 139 

the things embraced under them, it is regarded in its 
extension or breadth. Thus the judgment, " all men are 
mortal," means, according to its intension, " the attri- 
bute of mortality belongs to, or is one of the attributes 
of man ; " according to its extension, " man belongs to 
the class of mortal beings." The first defines, the second 
divides. 



SECTION II. 
KINDS OF JUDGMENTS. 



Judgments may be divided : according to the coin- 
cidence or non-coincidence of the concepts which they 
contain, into substitutive and attributive judgments ; ac- 
cording to the form of the language in which they are 
expressed; into categorical, hypothetical, and disjunctive 
judgments ; according to the agreement or repugnance 
of the ideas compared, into affirmative and negative 
judgments; according to the matter which they re- 
late to, into certain and doubtful judgments ; and ac- 
cording as the predicate merely explains or adds some- 
thing new to the idea contained in the subject, into 
explicative (analytic) and ampliative (synthetic) judg- 
ments. 

1. Substitutive and Attributive Judgments. — This is 
a general division of all judgments. As we have seen 
in the preceding section, all judgments assert, either 
that two concepts are equivalent to each other, or that 
one is a part of, or belongs to, the other. In the first 
case, the judgment is substitutive, in the second it is 
attributive. Thus, in the judgment, " man is a rational 
animal," the two concepts being equivalent, the subject 
and predicate may change places (i.e., one may be 



140 



INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 



substituted for the other) without affecting the truth or 
propriety of the judgment. It is just as true that " a 
rational animal is a man," as that " man is a rational 
animal." But in such judgments as "life is sweet," 
" the rose is a flower," the subject and predicate can- 
not with propriety be made to change places, since the 
one concept, in each case, is but a part, or an attribute, 
of the other. 

2. Categorical Judgments. — In modern usage, cate- 
gorical judgments embrace all judgments direct in form, 
whether positive or negative. They thus embrace all 
judgments, except hypothetical and disjunctive judg- 
ments. This is the common classification of judgments 
from Aristotle down. But in Aristotle himself, as 
shown by Sir W. Hamilton, * categorical is not opposed 
to hypothetical, but always means affirmative, whether 
applied to propositions or syllogisms. 

3. Hypothetical Judgments. — These are apparently 
pairs of judgments, related to each other as cause and 
effect, condition and consequence ; as, for example, " if 
it rains copiously, the rivers rise ; " " if you neglect to 
sow, you cannot expect to reap." But in all such cases, 
there is in reality onlj* a single judgment, a single as- 
sertion, which is, that if one thing happens, then another 
will. Giving it, therefore, its true logical form, the 
hypothetical judgment becomes " the case (fact, notion) 
of its raining copiously is a case {fact, notion) of the 
rivers rising." 

4. Disjunctive Jndgments. — Here, too, there are ap- 
parently two judgments, but really only one. Such 
judgments bring together, as alternatives, two judgments, 
both of which cannot be true, but one of which must 

* Philosophical Discussions, p. 151. 



JUDGMENT. 141 

be ; as, " either the miracles of Christ were real, or he 
was a gross impostor." The real judgment here, re- 
duced to its logical form, is, " the possible cases in re- 
gard to the miracles of Christ are, that they were real, 
and that he was an impostor." 

'5. Affirmative and Negative Judgments. — Judgments 
which exjyess an agreement of two concepts, as wholes, 
or as whole and part, are called affirmative judgments, 
while those which express a want of such agreement 
are called negative judgments ; as, " life is short," " man 
is not immortal." But when the negative does not 
affect the copula, but the subject or predicate, the judg- 
ment is affirmative ; as, u not to submit would be mad- 
ness," " all human virtue is imperfect." A judgment 
like this last, with a negative or privative expression in 
the predicate, is sometimes called an indefinite judg- 
ment. 

6. Certain and Doubtful Judgments. — Judgments 
pertaining to what is called necessary matter, as the 
relations of time, space, number, and degree, as devel- 
oped in the various mathematical sciences, are made 
with the utmost confidence and certainty ; such as, 
that " two and two make four," " two straight lines 
cannot enclose space." But judgments relating to con- 
tingent matter are made with less certainty, varying in 
different cases, and are received with more caution. 
The judgments, "truth is great and will prevail," are 
probable, though not certain. So of judgments based 
upon testimony; as, " Cato killed himself at Utica," 
and in the other departments of probable truth. 

7. Explicative or Analytic Judgments. — Such judg- 
ments merely unfold or analyze the subject in the pred- 
icate, — the predicate merely draws out and repeats in 



142 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

another form the idea contained in the subject. Such 
are the judgments expressed in the common logical and 
mathematical axioms and definitions ; as " a whole is 
equal to the sum of its parts," " a circle is a curved 
line, every point in which is equally distant from a 
a point included by it, called the centre." Such, too, 
are judgments in contingent matter, when the\>redicate 
is thought as necessarily involved in the subject ; as 
" all bodies are extended." Analytical judgments are 
not strictly identical, although the concepts in the sub- 
ject and predicate are equivalent to each other. The 
concepts are the same in substance, to be sure, but 
being different in form, the one is drawn from the other 
only by an act of mental analysis. 

8. Ampliative or Synthetic Judgments. — These are 
judgments in which something is added in the predi- 
cate to the idea contained in the subject. They ex- 
press an enlargement of our knowledge, a putting to- 
gether of two notions not actually involved in each 
other and thought as necessarily belonging to each 
other. Such judgments relate chiefly to contingent 
matter and probable truth ; they indicate the enlarge- 
ment of our knowledge through experience. Thus, 
when we say, " iron is ductile," we indicate by the pred- 
icate a quality not thought as necessarily involved in 
the very notion of iron, but one which has been dis- 
covered to belong to it by experience. 

9. Judgments not to be classified as Propositions. — 
The classification of judgments as propositions, and 
their significance as such, belong to- logic. There are 
commonly reckoned six distinct forms of propositions, 
to which Sir W. Hamilton, carrying out a thorough 
quantification of the predicate, in negative as well as 



JUDGMENT. 143 

affirmative judgments, has added two more, making 
eight in all. We may embrace, in both affirmative 
and negative judgments, the whole of the subject and 
predicate, a part of the subject and predicate, the whole 
of the subject and a part of the predicate, a part of the 
subject and the whole of the predicate. 



CHAPTER VII. 

REASONING. 

SECTION I. 

NATURE OP REASONING. 

1. What reasoning is. — Reasoning, when drawn 
out in full, consists of a series of judgments, in which 
every third judgment is deduced from the two preced- 
ing. The smallest movement in reasoning consists in 
deducing a third judgment from two others. This con- 
stitutes a single step, and is called, in logical language, 
a syllogism. As the mind advances from individuals to 
classes in conception, and from classes to combina- 
tions of classes in judgment, so it advances from judg- 
ments to combinations of judgments in reasoning. In 
reasoning, the object always is, from judgments already 
formed to reach other judgments which are legiti- 
mately deducible from them. This is done by the in- 
troduction of intermediate judgments. Thus, from the 
given judgment " all animals are mortal," I conclude 
at once that " man is mortal," as soon as I learn that 
" man is an animal." But from the judgment, "a tri- 
angle is a figure with three sides and three angles," we 
reach the conclusion that " the three angles of a tri- 
angle are equal to two right angles " only through sev- 
eral intermediate deductions. 

2. Argument, syllogism. — A reasoning expressed in 
words is called an argumentation or argument; though 

144 



REASONING. 145 

properly, argument is only the discovery and applica- 
tion of the means of proof, of middle terms. But as al- 
ready stated, a reasoning, or rather, a single step or 
process of reasoning, drawn out in full, so as to express 
the complete form and exact order of thought in de- 
ducing a conclusion legitimately, is called a syllogism. 
Thus while one would say, in common argumentative 
discourse, "this liquid is poisonous, for it contains arse- 
nic," if he were required to show more clearly the 
order of the thought, and the legitimacy of the conclu- 
sion, he would draw it out in full syllogistic form: — 

Every thing which contains arsenic is poisonous. 
This liquid contains arsenic, 
Therefore this liquid is poisonous. 

3. Designations of the different judgments in a syllo- 
gism. — In a syllogism, the judgment which we wish 
to establish is called the question or problem, at the 
outset, and the conclusion, after it has been established ; 
while the judgments from which it is deduced are called 
premises, — the general judgment with which we start, 
the major premise, and the mediating judgment, the 
minor premise. Thus, in the preceding syllogism, the 
question at the outset is, " is this liquid poisonous ? " 
and the conclusion deduced from the other two judg- 
ments as premises is, that " it is poisonous." 

4. Reasoning is generally abridged in common dis- 
course. — In the language of common discourse, the 
process of reasoning is generally abridged, by omitting 
one of the premises, or even the conclusion ; and often 
the order of the premises and the conclusion is inverted. 
The speaker or writer comprehending the reasoning dis- 



146 



INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 



tinctly himself does not feel the necessity of drawing it 
out fully, and in exact form, in expressing it to others. 
But such an argument being defective in form may be 
disputed by the caviller, or illegitimate reasoning may be 
passed off as legitimate under such forms. But a syl- 
logism, drawing out the reasoning in full, cannot be 
disputed, and will always exhibit any latent fallacy 
which may lurk in the reasoning. 

5. The syllogism a test of reasoning. — The syllo- 
gism, therefore, is only common reasoning drawn out 
in full, and in the best order to exhibit the legitimacy 
of the conclusion. It is common reasoning, though not 
in the precise form, nor in the exact language of com- 
mon discourse. It is a universal test of reasoning, and 
a sure protection against all fallacies. Thus, should it 
be said, " trade is depressed, therefore the country must 
be misgoverned," this might be passed off in a political 
harangue as very good reasoning ; but let it be drawn 
out into a syllogism and the fallacy is apparent at once. 
Thus:— 

Trade is depressed, 

Therefore the country is misgoverned, 

For every country is misgoverned where trade is depressed. * 

Putting in, thus, the general judgment implied but 
not expressed in the first form, the inconclusiveness of 
the reasoning immediately becomes obvious. 

6. Ground of the conclusion in a syllogism. — The 
object of all reasoning is to establish as true certain 



* This form of the syllogism is called analytic, since the premises fol- 
low the conclusion as its reasons. The synthetic form, which places the 
premises first, is more common, but no more legitimate, or convincing. The 
two judgments, without the general one, constitute an enthymeme. 



REASONING. 147 

conjectural judgments which occur to us in the experi- 
ence of life. And as all judgments consist of two con- 
cepts, which are legitimately united in thought only as 
they are seen to agree as wholes or as whole and part, 
the object of the syllogism is to exhibit conspicuously 
their agreement, through the introduction of a third no- 
tion, which agrees with both of the notions of the judg- 
ment to be established, either in whole or in part, and 
hence warrants the conclusion, since two concepts which 
agree with a third must agree with each other. Thus, 
should we conjecture of a certain disease that "it is fa- 
tal" in its character, if on further investigation we dis- 
cover it to be consumption, we have hit upon a notion 
which agrees with both " disease" and "fatal" (i.e., com- 
bines in itself both these ideas), and hence may say 
(introducing this as a middle term), "this disease 
(which is consumption) is fatal ; " or drawing out all 
that is implied in this statement in the form of a syllo- 
gism: — 

All consumptions are fatal. 
This disease is consumption, 
Therefore it is fatal. 

7. All reasoning may be resolved into syllogisms. — 
All reasoning is of this nature. It is always capable 
of being drawn out into syllogisms ; the longest train 
of reasoning, when fully and formally expressed, is only 
a series of syllogisms. It is the same in probable and 
in demonstrative reasoning. Logic takes no account 
of the matter to which the reasoning relates ; its forms 
are the same whether applied to necessary or contin- 
gent matter. Indeed, it does not even vouch for the 
objective truth of either its premises or conclusion, but 



148 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

only for the sequence of the one from the other. Thus, 
the following syllogism is a legitimate form of thought, 
though obviously false in fact: — 

All men are perfect. 
John is a man, 
Therefore he is perfect. 

8. The discovery of the media of proof. — Reasoning 
being such as here described, it will readily be seen 
that the chief difficulty in the process must lie in the 
discovery of middle terms, or what is called in common 
language, the media of proof As these media are al- 
ways notions pertaining to the general subject of in- 
quiry, and lying between the premises and the conclu- 
sion, they are generally best reached by an attentive 
study of the subject in itself and in its connections. In 
mathematical reasoning, where the conclusion is de- 
veloped directly out of the premises, we have little 
more to do, in order to discover the media of proof, than 
carefully and patiently to consider what is given, in all 
its elements and contents. But in inductive reasoning, 
and probable reasoning generally, where truth as real- 
ized in nature and in life is to be established, the media 
of proof are to be sought from a wider field ; though 
even here they are always related to both premises and 
conclusion, else, indeed, they could not serve as media 
of proof at all. 

9. Discovery of the media of proof in inductive rea- 
soning. — In inductive reasoning, the guide to the con- 
necting conception is analogy or likeness, and the suc- 
cess of the inductive reasoner depends partly upon the 
closeness with which he scrutinizes every thing pertain- 
ing to the subject which he is investigating, and partly 



REASONING. 149 

upon the readiness with which he seizes upon analogies 
among the objects which pass under his scrutiny. It 
was thus that Newton saw the law of gravitation in a 
falling apple, Oken the vertebral column in the skull of 
a deer, and Goethe the flower of a plant in its leaf. 
Newton, as he has informed us, owed his discoveries 
chiefly to the patience with which he studied his sub- 
jects, while the other discoverers here named, seem to 
have owed their success more to a lively imagination, 
which enabled them to see analogies that escaped 
duller though more patient students. 

10. The object of reasoning. — From what has been 
said, it will be seen that the object of reasoning is, to 
extend our knowledge from what we know to what we 
do not know — to enable as to form wider and wider 
judgments with regard to things. The human mind 
tends irresistibly to a unity of knowledge. It seeks so 
to arrange, and classify, and subordinate its knowledge, 
that in its highest synthesis, it may all stand under a 
single relation, and be embraced in a single affirmation. 
In this generalizing process, reasoning follows upon 
conception and judgment, and completes the work 
which they begin. 



SECTION II. 
KINDS OF REASONING. 



1. All kinds of reasoning are the same in form. — 
As already stated, reasoning in all cases is the same in 
form, being always capable of reduction to the form 
of a syllogism. But there are certain recognized dis- 
tinctions in the process, depending either upon the 



150 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

order of the thoughts or the matter to which they per- 
tain, which deserve a passing notice. 

2. Inductive and Deductive Reasoning. — This is a 
general distinction of reasoning into two counter 
wholes, depending upon the reversed order of the 
thoughts in the two cases. In inductive reasoning, we 
proceed from the particular to the general, from the 
parts to the whole ; while in deductive reasoning, we 
proceed from the general to the particular, from the 
whole to its parts. 

3. Principle of the two processes as stated by Ham- 
ilton. — Of the two processes, Sir W. Hamilton * re- 
marks, " The former is governed by the rule : What 
belongs (or does not belong) to all the constituent parts, 
belongs (or does not belong) to the constituted whole. 
The latter by the rule : What belongs (or does not 
belong) to the containing whole, belongs (or does not 
belong) to each and all of the contained parts." 

4. Induction usually precedes deduction.— As gen- 
eral notions, with a few exceptions, are formed from 
experience, induction must usually precede deduction. 
In the investigation of nature both are necessary, and 
they usually alternate with each other, — induction es- 
tablishing a general truth, and deduction, again, in- 
ferring some particular from it, and thus testing it. 
Thus, induction having rendered it probable that the 
diamond and charcoal were the same general sub- 
stance, deduction inferred, that if so, then the diamond 
would burn, which was found to be the fact, and hence 
their identity was established beyond all doubt or cavil. 

5. Imperfect inductions. — Induction is often used 
loosely for observation, or the investigation of facts 

"* Philosophical Discussions, p. 159. 



REASONING. 151 

preparatory to induction, and generally, among physi- 
cal inquirers, for those imperfect inferences which pro- 
ceed from some to all. In such cases, the inference is 
not based upon any necessity of thought, but upon the 
material probabilities of the case ; and though all-im- 
portant as a guide in the investigations of nature, is 
logically defective. Hence most of our general princi- 
ples, established by the induction of experience, are 
but probable truths. We say " all men are mortal," and 
have no shadow of doubt of the fact, though it is far 
from being a complete induction. Men are mortal as 
far as our experience goes, and, from the uniformity of 
the laws of nature, we are confident that they will 
always prove to be so. But from the nature of the 
case, the mortality of man can never be universally 
established till the end of time. 

6. A-priori and A-posteriori Reasoning. — This fa- 
mous distinction of reasoning, at least according to 
present usage, depends chiefly upon the different char- 
acter of the premises from which the reasoning pro- 
ceeds. The reasoning in both cases is deductive; but 
in the one case the premises are derived from experi- 
ence, in the other they are not. Of the use of the two 
terms, as designating elements of knowledge from 
which inferences may be made, Sir W. Hamilton * re- 
marks, " The term a priori, by the influence of Kant and 
his school, is now very generally employed to charac- 
terize those elements of knowledge which are not ob- 
tained a posteriori — are not evolved out of experience 
as factitious generalizations ; but which, as native to, 
are potentially in the mind antecedent to the act of ex- 
perience, on occasion of which (as constituting its 

*See Wight's Hamilton, p. 66. 



152 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

subjective conditions) they are first elicited into con- 
sciousness." 

7. Distinction between the two kinds of reasoning 
according to Hamilton. — As applied to reasoning, the 
same author * says of the terms : " Previously to Kant, 
the terms a priori and a posteriori were, in a sense 
which descended from Aristotle, properly and usually 
employed, — the former to denote a reasoning from cause 
to effect, the latter, a reasoning from effect to cause. 
The term a priori came, however, in modern times, to 
be extended to any abstract reasoning from a given no- 
tion to the conditions which such a notion involved ; 
hence, for example, the title a priori bestowed on the 
ontological and cosmological arguments for the exist- 
ence of the Deity. The latter of these, in fact, starts 
from experience — from the observed contingency of 
the world, in order to construct the supposed notion on 
which it founds. Clarke's cosmological demonstration, 
called a priori, is therefore, so far, properly an argument 
a posteriori" (N. 7, p. 254.) 

8. Probable and Demonstrative 'Reasoning. — This 
is a distinction of reasoning depending upon the effect 
which it produces upon the mind in different cases. 
The one kind of reasoning carries with it evidence 
which is irresistible, the other, only such as renders the 
conclusion probable. Yet, the process of reasoning is 
precisely the same in the two cases. The whole differ- 
ence lies in the matter to which the reasoning, in the 
two cases, is applied. Reasoning on necessary matter 
is demonstrative or apodictic, on contingent matter, 
only probable. 

9. Necessary and contingent matter. — Necessary 

# See Wight's Hamilton, p. 66. 



REASONING. 153 

matter includes all objects of thought on which we 
always and necessarily, in any given case, think the 
same ; and contingent matter, all other objects of 
thought. Hence, space, time, number, and degree — 
i.e., in brief, quantity — in their various relations, con- 
stitute the only absolutely necessary matter. All 
other matter is more or less contingent. Our knowl- 
edge of facts may be definite and certain, and various 
first principles of knowledge, as well as modes of con- 
ception, may be necessarily received as such by all men, 
but nothing except quantity presents an object of 
thought on which, in its various parts and relations, all 
men not only do, but must, think alike, if they think at 
all. 

10. Mathematical reasoning. — In mathematical rea- 
soning, — which alone, in the strict sense of the word, 
is demonstrative reasoning, — both the question and 
every step in the solution are not only perfectly defi- 
nite, but incapable of being apprehended differently, — 
if really apprehended, they must be apprehended alike 
by all and at all times. Thus, the definition of a 
circle, of a square, a triangle, etc., is one and the 
same to all, and any relation between their parts 
must always be apprehended alike by all. Space 
is apprehended by all as admitting of perfect figures 
of all sorts, and of fixed relations between their parts, 
whether any such figures are ever actually constructed 
or not. There *is the like ideal exactness and perfec- 
tion in our conceptions pertaining to the other forms 
of quantity. 

11. Hovj the case stands in probable reasoning. — 
But in probable reasoning the case is different. Here 
the object to be reasoned about is not fixed and deter- 



154 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY/. 

mined by our conceptions, but is variable and contin- 
gent, conforming rather to the laws of nature and the 
realities of things. Suppose we wish to prove the ex- 
istence of the soul after death, the obligations of moral- 
ity, or any of the ten thousand questions pertaining to 
, life and reality, we find no definite notion to start with, 
as in mathematics, which really contains the conclusion 
in itself, and which can be developed to the end through 
a series of necessary judgments ; but are obliged to 
start from this or that admitted fact or truth (and these, 
perhaps, not universally admitted), and proceed by 
merely probable inferences drawn from various, diverse, 
and often uncertain, relations, till we reach the conclu- 
sion. Such reasons may be sufficient to incline the 
mind to a particular conclusion, as against those 
which tend to any other conclusion ; but they are never 
quite sufficient to necessitate the conclusion, and 
render any other impossible. Still, if sufficient to con- 
trol the reason, they are sufficient to control the con- 
duct {mores) also ; and hence it is that probable reason- 
ing is sometimes called moral reasoning. 

12. Demonstrative reasoning not the most important 
because the most convincing. — But we are not to infer 
that demonstrative reasoning is the most important, be- 
cause it is the most convincing. A conclusion which 
is probably certain ought to control oar conduct as 
readily as one which is demonstrably certain. That 
the proof preponderates on one side is sufficient to de- 
termine the reason, and should be to determine the 
conduct. If it does not, it is evidence of something 
wrong in our character ; and thus the fact that every 
question cannot be made demonstrably evident, be- 
comes an important test and trial of character. Be* 



REASONING. 155 

sides, as life has to do chiefly with things contingent, 
probable reasoning is much more used by us, and 
hence is much the most important to us. As remarked 
by Bishop Butler,* " to us [beings of limited capacities, 
as we are] probability is the very guide of life." 

13. Abstract Reasoning. — This is reasoning from 
a general notion to its conditions or consequences. 
In terms it embraces mathematical reasoning, and in- 
deed, all reasoning where there is no appeal to experi- 
ence. But it is chiefly applied to that species of 
probable reasoning, which deduces conditions or conse- 
quences from general notions ; as, for instance, the 
existence of God, from our conception of space ; or 
future rewards and punishments, from the fitness and 
unfitness of actions. 



SECTION III. 
FIRST PRINCIPLES OF REASONING. 



1. The ivhole structure of knowledge depends on rea- 
soning. — As we have seen, it is by reasoning that our 
thoughts are combined and the whole structure of our 
knowledge reared. Nay, even the very foundations of 
knowledge depend upon reasoning. All thoughts are 
compared with each other by the reason, and are either 
accepted or rejected according as they are found to be 
consistent or inconsistent with other things. All knowl- 
edge being thus at the mercy of reason, it becomes im- 
portant to know within what limits its authority is le- 
gitimate, and what are the bounds to its action fixed in 
the nature of things. Even the reason must be reason- 

* Introduction to the Analogy. 



156 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

able. It may not cavil, nor expect to prove every thing 
by demonstrative reasons. Being limited in its nature, it 
must not attempt to pass certain bounds; but, on the con- 
trary, should accept as final certain well established judg- 
ments of fact, certain necessary conceptions, and certain 
laws of thought. 

2. Primary judgments of fact — Primary judgments 
of fact relate to things contingent, and are such as 
these : thought implies the existence of a thinking being 
to whom the thought belongs ; quality implies a substan- 
tive existence in which it inheres ; whatever is perceived 
by the several senses exists, and substantially as per- 
ceived; whatever is recalled by the memory did exist as 
remembered ; and in general, consciousness makes a true 
and reliable report of our experience. And not only so, 
but, that in the natural and unperverted state of things, 
men not only experience the truth, but speak the truth, 
and hence, that facts may be established by evidence. 

3. All probable reasoning is impossible unless these 
facts be accepted as final. — Without the admission 
of these, and perhaps other kindred judgments of fact, 
as primary and indisputable, all moral, or probable 
reasoning is impossible. All reasoning of this sort 
rests ultimately upon experience, and hence requires 
that the primary elements of experience be received as 
indisputable facts. If they be not thus received, there is 
no end of controversy, nothing in life can be settled, and 
the whole fabric of practical and empirical knowledge 
at once falls to the ground. It was thus that Hume 
subverted the fabric of knowledge in his time, and it 
was only by building upon these primary truths of fact, 
in a more sure and cautious manner, that it was again 
restored by Reid and his followers. 



REASONING. 157 

4. Necessary first truths. — Much of reasoning, also, 
rests upon certain necessary truths or judgments. 
Such judgments are: every effect must have a cause; 
all objects exist in space and time ; space admits of va- 
rious definite and perfect relations both among ob- 
jects and the different parts and positions of the same, as 
time does among- events and the different periods of the 
same existence. We think every effect as necessarily 
having a cause, and can neither annihilate space and 
time in thought, nor conceive them otherwise than as 
media which admit of all possible forms, poportions, 
motions, successions, and relations of quantity. 

5. Consequences of denying these truths. — Our con- 
ceptions of space, time, and number, lie at the founda- 
tion of mathematical reasoning. If denied, therefore, 
the mathematical sciences are undermined. But they 
cannot be denied ; they are necessary truths, forcing 
themselves upon us with a power which defies disbe- 
lief. Hence, the mathematical sciences, as being at 
least formally true beyond all possibility of doubt, have 
never been seriously assailed by scepticism. This is 
not true, however, of the doctrine of causation. Our 
idea of causation being regarded by Locke as wholly 
empirical, it fell, with other empirical knowledge, before 
the scepticism of Hume, and with it the proof of a First 
Cause, until restored on a surer foundation by subse- 
quent philosophers. 

6. Axioms and laws of thought. — Reasoning, also, 
rests upon certain axioms and laws of thought. Some 
of these axioms are employed exclusively in mathemat- 
ical reasoning; as, "a straight line is the shortest dis- 
tance between two points," " two straight lines cannot 
enclose a space," etc. Others may be employed, also, 



158 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

in probable reasoning ; such as, " the whole is greate! 
than its part," " things that are equal to the same thing 
are equal to each other," and the like. And besides 
these axioms, there are three well-known laws of 
thought, which apply to concepts and judgments, as well 
as to reasoning. These laws are denominated the Prin- 
ciple of Identity, the Principle of Contradiction, and 
the Principle of Excluded Middle. 

7. What these laws teach as applied to thought. — 
These laws are usually expressed by symbols as follows : 
A is A (Identity) ; A is not not — A (Contradiction) ; B 
is either A or not — A (Excluded Middle). As laws of 
thought, they are designed as a guide to the right use in 
reasoning of the three forms of thought, — the concept, 
the judgment, and the reason. They teach that in reason- 
ing, having assumed a concept or judgment with a certain 
content and extent, — i.e., one embracing certain attri- 
butes and things, — we are bound to keep it, under every 
form of expression, always the same, recollecting that A is 
always A, and cannot be made any thing else, or not — A : 
while every particular thing, as B, must be either A or not 
— A ; since A, and not — A, cover the whole sphere, and 
do not admit any thing between them. There is no mid- 
dle course. In other words, these laws teach that a con- 
cept, or proposition, maintains its sameness or consistency 
under different forms of expression, only so long as the 
meaning of the words remains the same ; that they be- 
come inconsistent, or contradictory of themselves, when 
confounded in any degree with that which they are not ; 
and that every concept, or proposition, must be either con- 
sistent with or contradictory of itself: the assertion of the 
one involves the denial of the other. There is no middle 
course. 



REASONING. 159 

8. What they teach as applied to things. — Applied to 
tilings, these laws teach such truths as these : That the 
same attribute cannot be affirmed and denied of the same 
tiling ; that the attribute cannot be contradictory of the 
subject ; that a thing cannot both be, and not be ; that a 
thing cannot be both white and not white; that no propo- 
sition can be both true and false. And, on the contrary, 
they teach that every thing must either be, or not be, and 
every proposition must either be true or false ; and this 
even when we comprehend neither the affirmative nor the 
negative of the proposition. Thus we say of time, that it 
must have either an absolute beginning or an infinite non- 
beginning, though we can conceive of neither. Also, that 
there is something in every object which constitutes it 
such, and makes us conceive it the same; and, hence, 
that the recurrence of the same complement of qualities 
is always to be taken as evidence of the presence of the 
same object. We are not at liberty to question its same- 
ness every time it recurs, but are required to receive it in 
the character in which it presents itself. 

9. Sow these first principles are to be regarded. — 
These and the like primary truths and principles form 
the starting-points, and warrant the procedure, in all 
reasoning. They are to be regarded as primary and in- 
disputable, because they are all well established, and 
capable of being proved, either demonstratively or with 
the highest probability. 



160 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

SECTION IV. 
IMPROVEMENT OF THE REASONING POWERS. 

1. They are improved by use. — The reasoning pow- 
ers, of course, are improved by reasoning, as the other 
powers are improved by their appropriate exercise. Ac- 
tion is the grand condition of improvement for all our 
powers. As we can improve our senses only by a care- 
ful and persevering use of them in the perception of 
external objects, and our memory only by tasking it in 
the association and recollection of events ; so we can 
improve our reasoning powers only by their frequent 
and earnest employment in reasoning, or what in some 
way pertains to it. 

2. We should arrange our knowledge in logical order. 
— In order then, to improve our reasoning powers, it is 
necessary, in the first place, that we should be in the 
habit of arranging and frequently retracing our knowl- 
edge in its logical order. By the " logical order " of 
things I mean, the order of their dependence in thought, 
as part and whole, means and end, premise and con- 
clusion, reason and consequent, etc. It is not enough 
that we arbitrarily connect our thoughts by the thread 
of association, and recall them in that order — this is 
merely an exercise of memory, not of the reasoning 
powers. We reason, only as we proceed from thought 
to thought as logically dependent upon each other, and 
compelling our assent at every step. Reasoning is 
proving, and hence we reason when we seek to estab- 
lish the truth on any subject. The investigation of 
truth, therefore, is the great field for the improvement 
of the reasoning powers. 

3. Mathematical reasoning as a source of improve- 



REASONING. 161 

merit. — Mathematical reasoning, as we have seen, is 
virtually coincident with demonstrative reasoning. Of 
the effect of this kind of reasoning in improving the 
reasoning powers, different and even quite opposite 
opinions are held. Sir W. Hamilton, in an article 
truly marvellous for its compass and ability, comes to 
the conclusion, that mathematical studies exercise the 
reasoning powers but feebly, being chiefly "conducive 
to the one sole intellectual virtue of continuous atten- 
tion" * Others, again, consider mathematics as abso- 
lutely the most efficient means of cultivating the rea- 
soning powers. 

4. What the truth in the case seems to be. — These 
are the extreme views, and the truth, undoubtedly, as 
usually happens in such cases, lies between them. It 
is true that the object-matter of mathematics — quan- 
tity — is simple and uniform, and the various concep- 
tions pertaining to its different parts and relations, clear 
and even necessary, while conclusions, however remote, 
are always implicitly contained in the premises, and 
are simply evolved out of them. Hence the course of 
deduction in mathematics seems to be of the simplest 
kind. The path being so plain, direct, and even 
hedged in on both sides, it scarcely seems possible for 
one to wander from it. Still, in mathematical, as in 
other reasoning, the object is, not simply to make a de- 
duction, but the right deduction — a deduction not 
only true, but important ; to come to a conclusion, not 
only correctly drawn from the premises, but establishing 
a particular point, and admitting of particular applica- 
tions. Though the conclusion is always involved in 

* Discussions on Philosophy, etc., p. 310. 



162 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

the premises, it takes a good deal of reflection to per- 
ceive it, and something more than mere patience to 
trace it through a long line of deduction, which at the 
same time is but one line among many that might be 
followed. Though mathematical reasoning has no 
very wide application in the ordinary affairs of life, 
there can be no doubt that it is an important instru- 
ment for sharpening and strengthening the reasoning 
powers. 

5. Probable reasoning as a means of improvement — 
Probable reasoning embraces all reasoning which is ftot 
demonstrative in its character, and hence, in general, 
all except mathematical reasoning. It occupies a wide 
sphere, therefore, and from the diverse, variable, contin- 
gent, and uncertain elements with which it has to do, 
must require the most careful and intense exercise of 
our powers in order to conduct it safely. Its processes 
may be shorter than in mathematical reasoning, but 
the variableness and contingency of its matter make it 
more difficult to manage. The effect of this kind of 
reasoning in improving the reasoning powers will be 
seen by considering its procedure in those departments 
of study and mental exertion where it has the greatest 
scope. 

6. Influence of metaphysical and ethical studies in im- 
proving the reasoning powers. — There is a large de- 
mand for the use of probable reasoning in metaphysical 
and ethical studies. Here the object is to establish the 
truth with regard to knowledge .and duty, — to solve 
the questions, What can we know ? and, What should 
we do ? These and the collateral questions are among 
the most abstruse and subtle which the human mind 
has to deal with, and can be settled only by weighing 



REASONING. 163 

a thousand probabilities — often in themselves appar- 
ently as light as air — and observing the slightest pre- 
ponderance of one over the other. The arguments by 
which the truth on these subjects is to be established, 
are so abstruse and subtle, as to task the human pow- 
ers to the utmost to discover and appreciate them. I 
know of no better gymnastic for the reasoning powers, 
than Butler's discussions on Morals, and Hamilton's 
on Philosophy. 

7. Effect of forensic discussions in improving the rea- 
soning' powers. — But the field w r here probable reason- 
ing has its widest scope, is in the proof of facts. The 
proof of facts by "circumstantial evidence," as it is 
called, is but the proof of facts by probable arguments, 
and has always been considered as presenting the fin- 
est field for the exercise and display of the strength and 
ingenuity of the reasoning powers. When the fact to 
be established deeply affects human interests, and 
arouses the popular mind by its public importance, as 
the fact of a murder, or some great public outrage or 
fraud, it has always been a favorite theme for the ora- 
tors, and, in different ages, themes of this sort have 
called forth such prodigies of argumentative eloquence, 
as the speeches of Cicero against Verres, of Burke in 
the impeachment of Warren Hastings, and of Webster 
in the trial of the Knapps. The construction of such 
arguments is among the highest efforts of the human 
reason, and even the careful reading and analysis of 
these great efforts of the master minds of our race are 
among the most profitable studies in which we can en- 
gage- 

8. Logic as a means of improving the reasoning pow- 
ers. — I might name, as another means of improving 



164 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

our reasoning powers, the study of logic. Not that 
logic teaches the art of reasoning ; logic is rather a 
critique of reasoning, than a system of rules for con- 
ducting it in practice. In the nature of the case, there 
can be no art of reasoning, except what is the result of 
the practice of reasoning. Reasoning proceeds by in- 
ternal perceptions, not by external rules. We improve 
our reasoning powers, therefore, only as we improve 
our perception of the logical relations of ideas, — only 
as we sharpen our mental acumen. And it is in this 
way that the study of logic improves the reasoning 
powers. It treats of the logical relations of thought, 
and hence trains the mind to their perception. It ana- 
lyzes the canons of thought, and thus lets us into its 
mechanism and familiarizes us with its processes. The 
study of logic, therefore, tends to improve the reason- 
ing powers, but only as other studies and mental exer- 
cises do, by promoting the perceptions and habits which 
are essential to reasoning. 

9- Conclusion. — It is by these, and the like means, 
that our reasoning powers — the last and noblest in that 
gradation of powers which it has been attempted in the 
preceding chapters to describe — are trained to that 
wondrous clearness of perception and facility of move- 
ment, which conduct us, step by step, with unerring pre- 
cision, to the most remote and hidden truths. Reasoning 
is a search for causes, or first principles. It proceeds 
from things as they present themselves to us to things as 
they are, from thoughts to the conditions which they 
involve, from facts to principles, from effects to causes, 
and from nature to God. It is ever moving towards 



REASONING. 1 G5 

unity, towards wider and still wider conclusions, as if 
instinctively tending towards that highest and sub- 
limest affirmation of the Christian faith — " God all 

AND IN ALL." 



CHAPTER VIII. 

SPECULATIVE KNOWLEDGE, OR METAPHYSICS. 



SECTION I. 



INTRODUCTORY. 



1. Speculative knowledge defined. — Speculative knowl- 
edge is not that common, obvious knowledge which we 
acquire by the ordinary exercise of our faculties, but 
those more subtle, more fundamental principles of 
knowledge which arise to our view in speculating ; i.e., 
contemplating or scrutinizing the objects and products 
of knowledge as they exist in the mind. On a close 
scrutiny, these products are found to be all cast after 
given forms, and seem to embrace more than can be 
gained by the regular action of our different powers. 
All our knowledge is linked together in our minds 
under the forms or relations of substance and attribute, 
cause and effect, means and end ; and nothing is known 
out of relation to space and time. These are called the 
u categories," or necessary relations of knowledge ; and, 
since these ideas are supposed to be furnished directly 
by the mind itself, — they really being there prior to expe- 
rience, and merely elicited by it, — they are also called 
u d-priori principles." And, as being fundamental and 
primary to all our knowledge, they are often called 

166 



SPECULATIVE KNOWLEDGE. 167 

"first principles," ''primary notions," "intuitive truths," 
and the like. 

2. Metaphysics defined. — Metaphysics also has to do 
with the fundamental principles of knowledge, and 
means substantially the same as speculative philosophy. 
Etvmologically considered, the term has no particular 
significance, and is said to have been accidentally ap- 
plied to this particular part of philosophy by being 
added by the compiler of Aristotle's works to the trea- 
tise on these fundamental principles which happened to 
come after his treatise on Physics (7 a fxera xa qpvffixa, 
the treatise after that on physics). Metaphysics means 
the same as ontology, or the science of being; i.e., of 
being per se, real being, as opposed to the phenomenal 
or to apparent being. In short, metaphysics treats of 
the fundamental forms of being, or knowledge, not only 
of the above-named categories, but of what Kant calls 
the "ideas of the pure reason ; " viz., of the conception 
of God as the highest condition of the possibility of all 
things, of the conception of the world as a single de- 
signed effect, and of the human soul as a simple, 
immaterial, unchanging substance and self-conscious 
personality. That these ideas and categories exist is 
universally admitted ; the only difference in regard to 
them among philosophers being as to whether they are 
principles original and native to the mind, or derived 
from experience. The intuitional school holds to the 
former view ; the empirical school, to the latter. 

3. 'Tis immaterial whether speculative knowledge is 
considered intuitive or acquired. — Whichever of these 
views shall prevail seems to me of but little consequence 
as far as they affect the dignity and importance of the 
mind. The facts remain the same in either case. A 



168 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

theory is designed to account for the facts, not to change 
them ; and that theory is the best which accounts for 
them the most simply and completely. And it is to be 
noticed, that both theories admit the necessity of expe- 
rience in order to the realization of these truths in our 
consciousness, — the one as the cause of their realization, 
the other as the occasion of it. The one view regards 
the truths in question as actually generated in the mind 
by the experience of life ; while the other regards them 
as simply called out or elicited into consciousness on 
occasion of this experience. In the one case the mind 
gathers them up from experience: in the other it be- 
comes conscious of them through experience. In the 
one case the mind acquires them : in the other they are 
native to it. And why should they not be of equal 
authority in either case ? Indeed, acquisition implies 
more that is active in the mind than original possession 
does. And, after all, what can really be meant by a 
capacity for knowing certain truths which are antece- 
dent to and above all experience, and which yet are 
never known except in connection with experience ? 
Are not the facts in the case calculated to suggest that 
the whole is the result of experience? And, indeed, 
what need is there of any other hypothesis, unless this 
fails to account for the facts ? Whether it will account 
for the facts or not will appear from the following ex- 
amination of some of the principal ideas in question. 



SPECULATIVE KNOWLEDGE. 109 

SECTION II. 
OF OUR IDEAS OF SUBSTANCE AND ATTRIBUTE. 

1. An attribute defined. — An attribute is any limita- 
tion or relation which we attribute or ascribe to an 
object ; as when we think or speak of an object as 
long or short, or round or square, or red or ivhite, 
or hard or soft, and the like. We sometimes use 
the terms quality, 'property, or accident, instead of 
attribute : indicating by the first of these terms that 
the attribute gives a certain character to the object, or 
makes it such and such ; and by the other two terms, 
in the first case, that the attribute is peculiar or essen- 
tial to the object ; and in the second, that it is acci- 
dental, or non-essential. But, whatever term is used to 
denote the modifying circumstance or peculiarity, we 
never think of it as any thing independent^ or as having 
a separate existence apart from the object to which it is 
ascribed. We may, indeed, think of a quality as an 
abstract or ideal existence, and, as such, ascribe to it 
certain qualities ; as when we speak of redness, the light 
red, the dark red, &c.: but, the moment we attempt to 
exemplify the quality by ascribing to it a concrete exist- 
ence, we think of it as belonging to some object. 

2. Of material substance and its attributes. — Sub- 
stance is the substratum, or the ground, of the qualities 
or manifestations which in our various experience 
address themselves to our senses or our consciousness. 
It is of two kinds, — material and spiritual. We will 
first consider material substance. Material substance is 
known to us directly only through its qualities; but 
these qualities are all regarded by us as relative to some 



170 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

object, and it is impossible for us to conceive them 
otherwise. We do not conceive the qualities as consti- 
tuting the object, but simply as belonging to it. We 
may suppose all the qualities with the exception of ex- 
tension withdrawn, and yet the substance remains ; 
and even extension, though essential to our idea of ma- 
terial substance, does not seem to constitute it. Yet, 
whatever may be the nature or essence of the ultimate 
particles of matter, we know that they must be of some 
size and shape, and occupy some portion cf space ; 
otherwise they would cease to be matter. Extension, 
then, being essential to the constitution of matter, in 
knowing material objects as extended, we may be said 
to know them in themselves. Extension is something 
more than a quality ; it is a nature : as Hamilton says, 
4fc The primary qualities (i.e., extension and its subor- 
dinate forms) deserve the name of qualities only as we 
conceive them to distinguish body from not-body, — 
corporeal from incorporeal substance. They are thus 
merely the attributes of body as body.'" It is clear, 
then, that, in knowing an object as extended, we know 
the object itself. Hence we may know not only quali- 
ties, l)ut the objects in which they inhere ; and, always 
knowing them in conjunction with each other, we natu- 
rally associate them inseparably with each other, so that, 
when we think of the one, the other always comes into 
the mind as its relative. 

3. Of spiritual substance and its manifestations. — 
As to spiritual substance, the account of this is more 
difficult. Accustomed as we are to consider matter 
alone as a substance, it sounds quite incongruous to 
hear spirit spoken of as substance. The term here, 
however, is used in its most extended, and indeed in 



SPECULATIVE KNOWLEDGE. 171 

its etymological sense ; as the substratum, or that which 
underlies or supports our spiritual manifestations, as 
realized in consciousness. As we cannot conceive quali- 
ties as existing alone, but only as relative to some mate- 
rial object in which they inhere ; so consciousness and 
the various forms of thought seem to imply a thinking 
substance, or being, of which these forms of thought are 
manifestations. And as in material substance, so here, 
we have no direct knowledge of this spiritual substance 
or mind or soul except through these manifestations. 
But while in the former case both the qualities and the 
substance are material, in this both the thought and the 
substance are spiritual. Our thoughts become known 
to us in and through consciousness; and, being so entirely 
different from the phenomena of matter, we ascribe them 
to a different nature, and view them as wholly relative 
to that nature. Thus the knowledge which we have of 
our spiritual nature is indirect, or inferential, but entirely 
satisfactory ; so that we always think of it as the ground 
of our various thoughts, and hence associate them 
together. But I do not think we can be said to be 
directly conscious of a separate spiritual nature in us: if 
this were the case, no one could ever doubt it, and conse- 
quently there could be no such thing as a materialist, 
of which there are great numbers in existence. 

4. Both material and spiritual substances have a real 
existence. — Both material and spiritual substances, then, 
exist. The view here taken is entirely different from 
that advocated by Hume and Mill and his associates, 
though attaching something of the same importance to 
the principle of association. It is not held, with Hume, 
that what we call material substance is merely the idea 
generated in the mind by our various sensations of the 



172 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY, 

so-called material qualities ; nor with Mill, that it is only 
a " permanent possibility of impressions," but that it has 
a real, positive existence, and is cognizable to us through 
our senses. So, too, the soul is regarded as having a 
distinct, independent existence, and not merely as an 
idea generated by many rapidly-succeeding states of 
consciousness, nor as only " a series of feelings aware of 
itself as past and future." While it is held that the at- 
tribute and its object, and the thought and the thinking 
principle, by being perpetually known together, are in- 
separably associated with each other, so as to seem 
entirely relative to each other, it is far from being held 
that the whole idea and reality of substance is a mere 
congeries or series of associated experiences. Such an 
assumption of the efficacy of the principle of association 
is not at all necessary to my view : but it is only de- 
manded that it should be thought sufficient to account for 
the coherence of thoughts and things, which, in the 
above-named cases, always come into the mind together ; 
and this, it seems to me, it is fully competent to do. 

5. All existences are either substance or attribute. — 
All existences are either substance or attribute. 
Thoughts, feelings, and volitions are attributes of spirit- 
ual substance, as primary and secondary qualities are 
attributes of material substance. Even appearances, or 
phenomenal as well as ideal existences, — as the pictures 
in the air in mirage, and the pictures before the mind in 
imagination, — are but modifications of matter and mind. 
So our idea of force, momentum, or power, is a concep- 
tion of the mind, derived, I have no doubt, from the 
external reality of the effect of our own action on other 
objects, and of the perceived action of these objects upon 
each other and upon our own organism. And even 



SPECULATIVE KNOWLEDGE. 178 

space and time must be considered as ideas of the mind, 
corresponding to the external possibility of free motion 
and succession in the sphere in which we live. Nothing 
(i.e. no-thing) is not an existence, unless it be a negative 
existence, if any one can tell what that is. Existence, 
or being, is contradictory of non-being ; and hence we 
cannot believe a thing both to be and to not be at the 
same time, because the two states are impossible, one 
necessarily excluding the other. 



section in. 

OF OUR IDEAS OF CAUSE AND EFFECT. 

1. The question stated. — Cause and effect are relative 
ideas, like attribute and object; the one always implying 
and suggesting the other. And that the one should 
suggest the other may be accounted for, as in that case, 
on the principle of association. The ideas, however, are 
not merely relative to each other, but relative in the 
order of time, as antecedent and consequent; and not 
only so, but one as being the ground of the existence 
of the other, and that necessarily and universally. The 
causal judgment, as expressed by every one, is, not that 
this, that, and the other event must have had a cause, 
but that every change or event must have a cause. We 
can conceive no change as taking place without a cause. 
Events are not isolated, but are linked together as causes 
and effects. The problem, then, here is, not to account 
for the mere relativity of the ideas, but for the peculiar 
way in which they are related, or rather in which the 
things represented by the ideas are related. In short, 



174 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

we are to inquire why it is that every one decides at 
once that every event must have a cause. 

2. Intuitive and empirical theories of causality. — This 
has been accounted for variously. Many have held that 
it is an intuitive perception ; that we are impelled to 
the decision by the very constitution of our nature, and, 
for this reason, cannot believe otherwise. This theory is 
sufficient to account for the facts, provided the existence 
of such an intuitive perception be admitted. Another 
theory, started by Hume, and followed up by Brown, 
Mill, and others, is, that our idea of causality is wholly 
derived from the perceived antecedency of objects or 
events to others which follow them in the continued suc- 
cession of things. This doubtless is sufficient to account 
for the simple association of the ideas of cause and 'effect 
together, but not for the fact that one is viewed as repre- 
senting something which is the ground of that represent- 
ed by the other, or of their being associated together as 
cause and effect. Others, as Maine de Biran, derive our 
notion of causation from our own experience in produ- 
cing effects through the operation of our wills in control- 
ling and directing our organs in action. As it requires 
effort in us to produce an effect, we might certainly 
infer from this experience that power — an essential 
element in the causal idea — is necessary in producing 
change, but could not legitimately conclude that every 
change must he produced by some cause. 

3. Rational theories of causality. — It thus appears 
that the various empirical theories fail to account for 
the most important element in the causal judgment ; viz., 
its necessity and universality. For this reason, Hamil- 
ton resorts to what may be called a rational theory of 
the matter. As change in matter, and also in force, is 



SPECULATIVE KNOWLEDGE. 175 

merely change in form, not in amount, every effect 
must be considered as only its cause or causes under a 
different form, and hence there is an actual continuity 
in things ; and events must be indissolubly connected 
with each other in our minds, as things are in fact. 
But, not to name other objections to this theory, it 
merely accounts for the universal linking-together of 
events in our minds, not for their universal connection 
as cause and effect ; unless because we must think the 
effect the same as the cause, only under another form, 
implies causation. 

Let us try another rational theory, then. It seems to 
me that the causal judgment is best accounted for by the 
doctrine of sufficient reason : indeed, it is little more 
than another form of that doctrine. We soon learn from 
experience, if we do not conclude from a rational view 
of the case, that no change can take place where there 
is no change in the conditions. The billiard-ball not in 
use remains at rest on the table, which is perfectly hori- 
zontal ; the water in a pool, unaffected by any extrane- 
ous influence, remains quiet ; vegetation, while the earth 
is bound with frost and covered with snow, undergoes 
no change : and so in other cases. But let the table 
become inclined, or the ball be struck by the billiard- 
stick, or the wind blow upon the water, or the sun melt 
off the snow and shine warmly upon the earth, and a 
change immediately takes place. And, in all such cases, 
we say there is a good reason for it : there has been a 
change of conditions, and these new conditions we re- 
gard as the cause, — as having exerted an influence 
which resulted in the change. And since, without such 
influence, no change takes place, and we can conceive 
no possibility of any change without it, we decide with 



176 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

confidence that every change takes place by a change of 
conditions in the antecedents, and hence that every 
effect must have a cause. 

4. The final cause. — The final cause is the end or 
aim had in view in doing or making any thing. It is 
called a cause, from its being conceived of as a reason or 
incitement to the agent to do the thing in question ; and 
is said to be the final cause, inasmuch as it lies at the 
end of the work, and is supposed to operate till its com- 
pletion. Thus we often hear it said that the final cause, 
or end, which God proposed to himself in creation, was 
to set forth his character to his intelligent creatures, or 
to work out their greatest good. At all events, the 
world is full of correspondences and adaptations, which 
imply design ; as of the eye for the light, the horse for 
the rider, and the ox for the yoke. And as it is the 
distinctive act of human intelligence to conceive of 
ends, and contrive means to attain those ends, when 
we discover in our own bodies and other objects around 
us such striking evidences of design, and adaptation of 
means to ends, we can but regard them as evidences of 
the existence of a wise and beneficent Creator. 

5. First and second causes. — This doctrine of causa- 
tion leads directly back to a First Cause. The causes 
hitherto spoken of are but secondary causes. The low- 
est hypothesis which will satisfy the Christian, or even 
the theistic, idea of God, is, that lie concurs in all 

3. The powers of nature are its active principle ; such as gravity, light, 
heat, electricity, chemical action, mechanical action, and the like. " Con- 
ditions," on the contrary, are the passive qualities of objects, or other 
attendant circumstances, which control and regulate the action of pow- 
ers ; as, in the above cases, the inclination of the table allowing the 
action of gravity, and the presence of snow preventing the action of the 
heat of the sun. 



SPECULATIVE KNOWLEDGE. 177 

changes. Or in other words, if God has endowed matter 
with certain powers, these powers are not independent 
of himself: they must be sustained and seconded 
by him in order to be operative. But even if all the 
changes and transformations which we witness and which 
take place in the world, including growths of men, ani- 
mals, and plants, are wholly effected by powers inherent 
in the things themselves, yet, being uniformly depend- 
ent one upon the other, — equally effects and causes, 
— however numerous, they must still be a dependent 
series, and plainly demand for a beginning a Cause 
which is not also an effect : otherwise existences, how- 
ever far traced up, would be found to be dependent 
upon what is itself an effect, and the principle of causa- 
tion would be made void. Our idea of causation finds 
its complete exemplification, and attains its absolute 
universality, only in God. 



SECTION IV. 



OF OUR IDEAS OF SPACE AND TIME. 

1. Origin of our notion of extension, — Extension is 
limited space ; and it has already been stated that we 
get our first idea of it through the mutual externality 

5. This is what is called the cosraological argument for the existence 
of God ; and, with the one from design referred to in the preceding para- 
graph, is the most striking and conclusive. There are other proofs of 
his existence, and especially the ontological proof, which argues from the 
idea of God to the truth of his existence. We find ourselves with an 
idea of God as an infinite and perfect being ; and, as such an idea cannot 
be gained from the finite and imperfect things which surround us, it im- 
plies for its cause, it is contended, the Being himself. 



178 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

of our sensations. Our nervous system, in which the 
susceptibility of sensations resides, is spread out through 
and over the whole body, so that the affections which 
produce sensations are actually separated from each 
other, and reveal themselves to us thus in our conscious- 
ness. Although apprehended by the mind at the centre 
of the organism, yet they are always recognized as being 
in that part of the body where they actually are, and 
hence more commonly at the surface ; but, in whatever 
part of the system they reveal themselves, they must 
be more or less removed from each other. But what 
do we mean by saying that one is removed from the 
other? Why, that they are so related to each other, 
that we have to put forth a certain amount of exertion 
in moving the eye or the hand from one to the other. 
We thus reach the notions of here and there, which im- 
ply space, and are indeed fundamental elements from 
which the whole idea of extension follows. So when we 
speak of material objects as having the three dimen- 
sions of length, breadth, and thickness, what can we 
mean except it be that their external character can be 
described by certain motions in three directions ? At 
all events, it is certain, that, were we explaining this 
character in things to one who did not understand the 
meaning of the words, we should illustrate it by such 
motions. All agree that we become conscious of exten- 
sion in some such way as this ; and the empirical phi- 
losopher holds that our idea of. it is wholly generated by 
this experience, while the intuitionist regards the expe- 
rience as merely the occasion of eliciting into conscious- 
ness a pre-existing but hitherto dormant idea of space. 

2. Origin of our notion of duration. — As extension is 
limited space, so duration is a limited portion of time. 



SPECULATIVE KNOWLEDGE. 179 

How, now, do we acquire our idea of duration ? Dura- 
tion is continuance in succession, as extension is continu- 
ance in direction. Duration, therefore, is relative to 
conscious existence : it supposes some being who is con- 
scious of succession in his own experience. It implies 
a now and a then in one's experience. And what do 
we mean by now and then, unless it be two points in our 
experience separated by more or less intervening inci- 
dents of experience ? We recognize an interval between 
the two, not, however, as a blank, but as filled up with 
and measured by the intervening experience of life. 
We first get the idea of duration, perhaps, by our heart- 
beats, following each other in such rapid succession ; or 
by the recurrence of other feelings or acts, as of cold, 
heat, hunger, exertion of the mind or muscles, and the 
like. And, having got the idea of duration, we soon 
learn to measure it, — at first loosely by such experi- 
ence as that referred to above, say, by the interval 
between our heart-beats, or that required to move from 
a given point to another, and then more accurately by 
the recurrence of day and night ; the varying positions 
of the sun and the other heavenly bodies ; the changing 
shadows of natural objects, and then of artificial objects 
(as in the sun-dial) ; and, finally, by the swing of the 
pendulum, each vibration of which occupies a definite 
portion of the time required for the revolution of the sun. 
Few, if any, will doubt that it is by some such experi- 
ence as this that we become conscious of our notion of 
duration ; though, as in the case of extension, many hold 
that the idea is merely elicited by this experience, not 
generated by it. 

3. The intuitional and empirical theories discussed. — 
As is implied in what has already been said, the intu- 



180 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

itlonist holds that the ideas of space and time are ante- 
cedent to those of extension and duration, and alone 
give significance to the experience described above. 
Kant regarded space and time as the forms furnished by 
the mind in perception by the senses, as the " categories 
of the understanding" and the " ideas of the pure rea- 
son " are the forms furnished by the mind in its higher 
processes of thought. According to this view, the here 
and the there, the now and the then, are furnished 
directly by the mind itself, and not derived from our ex- 
perience : we rather posit things in space and time, in 
the gross, than ascertain by our experience that they 
are there. This is the view, which, with some varia- 
tions, is held by intuitionists in general. The question, 
then, is, whether we really have or need, in order to 
account for all the facts, any other idea of points sepa- 
rated from each other in space and time, so-called, than 
different sensations in our organism, from one of which, 
in the one case, the hand or the eye may start, and, 
after a certain amount of exertion, reach the other; and, 
in the other case, of like sensations in our internal ex- 
perience, or life, connected by a given amount of actual 
or possible experience intervening. And, if we need 
nothing more than this to make up our notion of exten- 
sion and duration, — as it seems to me we do not, — 
why assume the latent existence of intuitive ideas of space 
and time which are first elicited into consciousness by 
this experience? Or if it be said that it is not claimed 
that we have ready-formed ideas on these subjects which 
are thus brought out, but merely the ready-furnished 
power of forming them on the occurrence of the appro- 
priate experience, we reply, that this is precisely what is 
here contended for, and proved, too, by the actual form- 



SPECULATIVE KNOWLEDGE. 131 

ing of them ; not, however, merely in consequence of 
the experience, but in and by it. 

4. Infinite space and time. — Bat space and time, it is 
said, are conceived of by us as infinite, while our experi- 
ence in extension and duration must necessarily be very 
limited. And if, now, our ideas of space and time are 
wholly derived from experience, how does it happen 
that these ideas are without limit ? It is true that we 
cannot fix a limit to space, nor assign a beginning or 
end to time, even in imagination. But we cannot, of 
course, have a positive idea of infinity in any form. We 
merely conceive of the extension and duration of which 
we have continued experience as existing everywhere. 
They seem to us ubiquitous in their nature. As we find 
that space is necessary to the existence of all material 
objects, and time to all continued existences, we must 
assume the presence of space and time wherever we 
suppose it possible that there may be such existences : 
the possibility of the existences determines the necessity 
and universality of the conceptions. Wherever such 
existences may be, there must be room for them. And 
can we place any limit to the possibility of such exist- 
ences ? Wherever the universe extends, there these 
may be. All admit the extension and duration which 
we experience to be of precisely the same nature as 
space and time in general ; to be, indeed, parts of them : 
and as in these we always find an overplus beyond our 
actual experience, always room beyond, we naturally 
and necessarily extend the same to all the possibilities 
of existence. This, as it seems to me, is all that there 
is in the so-called necessary conceptions of infinite space 
and time. 

5. Relation between space and time. — Space and time 



182 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

are both quantities, — the one extensive quantity, and the 
other protensive quantity, as designated by Hamilton ; 
the one being the measure of our external, and the other 
of our internal, experience. But, of these two quantities, 
space is evidently the primary, time being but secondary 
to it. Hence many of the terms which belong properly 
to space are applied also to time, as before and after, 
long and short, and the like, where time is evidently 
conceived under local relations. So the measure of 
time is made sensible to us by motions of extended 
bodies in space ; as by the movements of the heavenly 
bodies, the swing of the pendulum, &c. The terms 
now and then, also, are applied to the beginning and the 
end of a motion in space, as well as here and there, 
which properly indicate these points ; the idea being, 
that there always is, or may be, a certain amount of in- 
ternal experience during any motion. Indeed, time is 
more comjnonly conceived under the image of space ; 
and it is easy to see why it should be so. Space is not 
only primary to time in being the fundamental condition 
of all material existences, whether animate or inani- 
mate, but, being the measure of these material things, 
its physical elements are more obtrusive, and hence 
more easily laid hold of. 

6. Origin of mathematical axioms. — As the relations 
involved in the ideas of space and time constitute the 
chief subjects of mathematical science, it will be proper 
here to consider the origin arid authority of a few of the 
mathematical axioms ; such as, that " a whole is greater 
than either of its parts," " two straight lines cannot en- 
close a space," "a number added to itself makes double 
that number." As to the authority of these axioms, no 
one questions it. They are appealed to with perfect 



SPECULATIVE KNOWLEDGE. 183 

confidence by all, and are most unquestionably true. 
But there are different views in regard to their origin ; 
some holding that they express intuitive perceptions, 
and others that they are judgments or conclusions ar- 
rived at through experience, or by a rational view of 
each case. I do not see any need of calling in the aid 
of intuition here, any more than in the preceding cases. 
Suppose it be true that a part of an object may be 
removed, so small as not to be perceptible by the senses, 
and hence that in such a case we can't distinguish be- 
tween the whole and its remaining part by our natural 
senses : still we may be able to do it by the microscope, 
and can certainly distinguish the two rationally. And 
it should be recollected that mathematical wholes and 
parts are ideal wholes and parts, and are always to be 
viewed and judged rationally. In like manner, though 
we cannot actually follow out two straight lines to infin- 
ity, we can follow them far enough to conclude from the 
course which they are taking that they can never meet 
in more than one direction, and hence cannot enclose a 
space. And as to the doubling of a number by adding 
it to itself, this may be proved by counting the fingers. 



SECTION V. 
<OF THE INFINITE AND THE ABSOLUTE. 

1. What these are, and the apparent contradictions 
which they involve. — The ideas of space, time, and God, 
constitute what has been called the Infinite and the 
Absolute ; or, more briefly, the Unconditioned. It is 
in these ideas that Kant, and after him Hamilton, find 



184 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

so many antinomies, or contradictions. The chief of 
these are the following: 1st, If God be infinite in his 
nature, lie must include in himself all things, and hence 
cannot be distinguished from the universe; and yet, as 
infinite, lie cannot be identified iviih the finite things 
which make up the universe. 2d, Of time we cannot 
conceive an absolute beginning, nor an infinite non-begin- 
ning. 3d, We cannot think of space as absolutely Urn- 
ited in any direction, nor yet as infinitely unlimited. 

Of these apparent contradictions it is sufficient to say, 
that, in each case the subject of thought being assumed 
to be infinite in its nature, we cannot, of course, posi- 
tively conceive of it as such, since we are confessedly 
incapable of conceiving the infinite ; and, being infinite, 
we cannot, of course, conceive of it as finite, which it is 
not. As, for instance, of time : time being infinite, 
we are incompetent to conceive of it as such, and hence 
cannot conceive of it as having an infinite non-beginning ; 
and, since it is infinite, we cannot conceive of it as 
finite ; i.e., as having an absolute beginning. 

2. The infinite and the absolute defined. — There has 
been a good deal of juggling with the abstractions called 
the Infinite and the Absolute. Infinite is a negative 
term, meaning that which has no end or limit ; which 
to us can only mean that which has no end or limit as 
far as we can trace it in thought. Thus space (being 
infinite) is extension carried out in all directions, so that 
we can place no limits to it in thought. So infinite 
goodness, wisdom, &c, are simply these qualities as 
exhibited among men, but carried out to perfection. 
And here we have the idea of the Absolute, which means 
completed, perfected. Infinite goodness or wisdom be- 
comes absolute goodness or wisdom when perfect in its 



SPECULATIVE KNOWLEDGE. 185 

kind ; but, as the point of perfection is beyond the reach 
of our scrutiny, they may be spoken of indifferently as 
infinite or absolute. 

3. The unconditioned. — Hamilton uses the term un- 
conditioned to include both the infinite and the absolute. 
Strictly speaking, the unconditioned is that which bears 
no relations to any thing else ; of which, therefore, we 
can neither think nor assert any thing, since this would 
imply some such relation. If there be any such uncon- 
ditioned, we cannot, of course, know any thing about 
it: it must be to us as zero. There may, indeed, be 
many things in the universe about which we know 
nothing ; but this is quite a different thing from saying 
that there are things about which nothing can be thought 
or said consistently with their nature. The fact is, the 
infinite, the absolute, and the unconditioned, as they 
have been treated by Hamilton, Mansel, and many 
German and French philosophers, are mere metaphysi- 
cal puzzles, misleading and bewildering by their vague- 
ness and incomprehensibility. It is absurd to say that 
nothing beyond our own imaginings, or which really 
touches the subject, can be known or said about space, 
time, and God, when we are continually thinking and 
speaking, and that, too, with a conscious intelligence, on 
these subjects. We do not know God in his fulness or 
absolute nature, it is true ; but our knowledge of him 
is not wholly nought, nor negative even. 



APPENDIX. 



ABSTRACT OF THE HISTORY OF SPECULATIVE PHILOSOPHY. 

1. Philosophy has been defined to be, " the research 
of causes." It is the fruit of the inquisitive or specu- 
lative spirit of man. By the constitution of the hujnan 
mind, all experience awakens reflection. We are not 
merely conscious of the successive facts and changes 
which transpire within and about us, as they pass, but 
are arrested by them, and led to reflect upon them. 
They awaken not only consciousness, but curiosity. 
The mind dwells upon them, compares them, contem- 
plates, speculates them ; and in so doing, draws in- 
ferences from them, generalizes them, and, by degrees, 
ascertains their true relations and significance. Phi- 
losophy, therefore, in its incipient state, must be as old 
as our race. Its rude beginnings are first seen in the 
mythologies and cosmogonies of nations. These are 
as truly a search for causes, or first principles, as the 
later and more rational theologies and philosophies. 

2. Among the ancient nations, philosophic thought 
advanced but little beyond its mythological tendencies, 
except in Greece, and subsequently in Rome. The 
history of ancient philosophy is little more than the his- 
tory of Grecian philosophy. Among the Greeks, phi- 
losophy passed through every stage of development, and 

187 



188 APPENDIX. 

presents, in epitome, a complete history of speculation. 
Here, as elsewhere, it commenced in mythologies and 
theogonies. The elements and powers of nature were 
personified and elevated into deities, as the generating 
and regulative principles of nature and natural phe- 
nomena. Facts were thus rudely classified and nature 
traced back to first causes. These causes, however, 
were rather imaginative than rational, assumed more 
as postulates of the religious instinct, than as deduc- 
tions of reason. Greek philosophy, properly so called, 
begins with the Ionian Philosophers, Thales, Anaxi- 
mander, and Anaximenes, about 600 b.c. 

3. k Philosophy, at the outset, would naturally be one- 
sided and partial. Thought, at first, would not pene- 
trate very deeply into things, nor take a very wide sm> 
vey of the objects of nature. It would be likely to seize 
upon only the coarser and more obtrusive elements and 
relations, and be satisfied with the most partial results. 
Commencing with the mere husk and shell of things, 
in the progress of ideas, we should expect it to pene- 
trate deeper and deeper, and extend its survey to a 
wider and still wider circle, till it embraced all objects, 
whether near or remote, and all elements, whether 
coarse or subtile, and harmonized them under one con- 
sistent, rational view. And such we shall find to have 
been the constant tendency of thought. Philosophy 
has progressed as thought in general has progressed. 

4. Primitive philosophy, then, will more commonly 
be of a physical nature. Intelligence will be regarded 
as little more than one of the many phenomena of the 
material universe, akin to, and scarcely more striking 
than motion, which is observed to exist in even unor- 
ganized matter. In the real ignorance of causes, all 



APPENDIX. 189 

nature will seem in some sense animated, and man 
scarcely more so than the rest. The first step of the 
philosopher, therefore, in attempting to account for 
what he witnesses around him, and to reduce the mul- 
tifariousness of nature to unity, will be to assume some 
element, which may serve as the common basis of both 
mental and material qualities, and from whose various 
transformations, all the objects of nature, with all the 
phenomena of intelligence, life, and change, arise. At 
the same time, from the imaginative character of primi- 
tive ages, this prima materia, or elementary principle, 
will naturally be endowed with an inherent, dynamic 
force of self development, so as to operate from within 
all the various changes and transformations which it 
undergoes. Of this nature were the archce, or first 
principles, of the Ionian philosophers. 

5. Thales, the first in order, was born at Miletus, a 
flourishing Greek colony on the coast of Asia Minor, 
about 640 b.c. He is regarded by Aristotle as the 
first who attempted to establish a beginning of things 
on rational grounds, without the aid of myths. His 
doctrine was, " water is the beginning of all things." In 
looking around upon nature, organized and unorgan- 
ized, this seemed the most universal element. He 
found moisture everywhere. Every thing seemed to be 
nourished by moisture, and indeed, to be made up of 
it, so as to be only moisture variously transformed. 
Earth was but water condensed, and air but water 
evaporized. He assumed water, therefore, as the uni- 
versal basis of all things, as the invariable substance of 
which all special objects are but the variable forms. 
Hence, it was the single problem of his philosophy to 



190 APPENDIX. 

resolve all special existences into this, to show that this 
was the grand residuum in all analysis. 

6. Anaximander, born also at Miletus, and contem- 
porary with Thales, though somewhat younger, is com- 
monly regarded as having pursued the same line of 
physical philosophizing. With him the first principle 
of all things seems to have been a sort of chaos (apiron), 
or, as Aristotle appears to have regarded it, a mixture 
of elements in a limitless and formless state. His prima 
materia, then, was a sort of general substratum, of an 
unorganized and heterogeneous nature, from which 
sprang, apparently by an inherent dynamic* action, 
the various objects, beings, and changes which consti- 
tute the phenomenal world. He seerms to have felt that 
no single element was susceptible of all the various 
transformations necessary to constitute the different ob- 
jects in nature. His analysis found more than one 
element in all objects, and so he conceived the different 
elements as in combination from the first, and evolv- 
ing themselves into different forms to constitute the 
sensible world. 

7. Anaximenes, the last f of the illustrious Miletian 
trio, known as the founders of the Ionian philosophy, 
was born about a century after Thales (548 B.C.), and 
pursued the same general line of investigation. With 

* Ritter, however, considers his philosophy as of the mechanical sort, 
and Lewes, as of the mathematical. But the view expressed in the text 
is the more common and credible opinion. See Thompson's note to 
Wm Archer Butler's History of Ancient Philosophy, vol. i, p. 320. 

t Diogenes of Apollonia, in Crete, about a century later, took up the 
doctrine of Anaximenes, and further refined it. With him the " air " be- 
came intelligent, as well as animate, the soul both of man and nature, — the 
elementary deity, in short, animating and actuating all things. See. p. 42, 
1. 



APPENDIX. 191 

him air was the beginning, or first principle, of all 
things. This seemed to him most like the general 
animating and constitutive principle of nature. It 
seemed to unite both material and spiritual qualities. 
It filled space, investing and nourishing all things, and 
was ever in motion, as if possessing an inherent spirit, 
of life. All life was supported by air ; the earth and all 
solid bodies were only air condensed in various degrees, 
while heat and cold were produced by different degrees 
of density in the same primal element. 

8. Heraclitus of Ephesus (born about 503 b.c.,) 
continued the Ionian philosophy in substantially the 
same spirit as its original founders, though with more 
breadth and a greater tendency to the spiritual. With 
him fire was the first principle and substance of the 
universe. It was the common ground both of mental 
and material phenomena ; not only the animating but 
the intelligent and regulative principle of nature. The 
phenomenal world was but a successive kindling and 
subsidence of this primal fire. He taught that the very 
existence of sensible things consists in change, in becom- 
ing and subsiding. All things are in transition, in a per- 
petual flow, or change, as reported by the senses. This 
is of the very nature of fire, which perpetually enkin- 
dles and extinguishes itself by an internal, self-regulat- 
ing principle. Material objects exhibit this character 
in their ever-changing phenomena, and mind in its 
restless and fleeting thoughts, — for even God and the 
soul of man are but a more subtle flame. His sys- 
tem, in short, was that of unrest in every thing, pro- 
duced by a sort of pantheistic development of the 
subtle, intelligent element which he called fire.* 

* Heraclitus is known in history, or fable, as the crying philosopher ; 



192 



APPENDIX. 



9. Anaxagoras of Clazomenae (born atout 500 b.c.) 
is the last of the Ionian philosophers, and even in him 
the system had lost much of its original character. The 
tendency to spirituality, which was observed in Hera- 
clitus, in Anaxagoras was carried so far that he substi- 
tuted for the vague vital force of nature, adopted by 
the previous masters of the school, an infinite, inde- 
pendent, omnipresent principle of intelligence {nous). 
At the same time, he held that all space was filled with 
infinitely small particles of inert matter of different 
kinds, which the regulative intelligence formed into 
objects differing as the primitive elements of which 
they were constituted differed. Natural objects were 
no longer regarded as self-developments of one or many 
elements, but as formed from an inert primitive chaos 
by an independent intelligent power, operating upon 
it from without. If we have not here the full concep- 
tion of a Divine Creator and Providence, we have 
something very like it. Anaxagoras, though born at 
Clazomenae, spent the. prime of his life at Athens, and 
there taught his doctrine of an All-ordering Intelligence, 
which was afterwards so nobly carried out by Socrates 
and Plato. 

10. We have thus seen in this series of philosophers, 
a constant tendency to more and more spiritual views 
of nature. Starting with the grosser elements as pri- 
mal principles in the constitution of nature, and mind 
as wholly subordinate to matter, — a mere quality of 

probably from his wearing a gloomy aspect, or, as some think, on account 
of the fleeting, unsatisfactory view of things to which his philosophy led. 
He is also called the obscure, most likely from the depth and peculiarity of 
his views. Thompson. says of him (note to Butler's History of Philos- 
ophy), " He was perhaps the greatest speculative genius among the fore 
runners of Plato/ ' 



APPENDIX. 193 

it, — they gradually adopted the finer elements as first 
principles, and at last wholly extricated mind from na- 
ture, and placed the organization and control of mat- 
ter entirely under the superintendence of a distinct 
principle of intelligence. Of course, it was admitted 
from the beginning, that the intelligence of man was 
superior to that of other animals around him, and es- 
pecially to that of unorganized matter ; but it was 
regarded as differing in degree rather than in kind. 
Every thing was regarded as having a species of ani- 
mation, and hence a kind of intelligence, which was 
only more developed and more perfect in man and the 
gods, not at all different in kind. But little attention, 
therefore, was paid to the theory of knowledge. The 
Ionian philosophers do not appear to have held to any 
other knowledge than that of phenomena, and this, in 
general, they held to be very inadequate and decep- 
tive. 

11. If now we turn from the eastern shores of the 
iEgean to the western shores of the Adriatic, from the 
outlying Greeks in the east, to the outlying Greeks in 
the west, we shall discover a philosophical movement 
of quite a different kind. The line of speculation is 
here quite reversed. It is not so much the material ( 
which constitutes the world that is investigated, as the 
thought which underlies it ; not so much the phenome- 
nal world, as the intelligible and ideal. The phenom- 
enal world seemed to these western philosophers too 
changeable and relative, not only to the mind, but to 
the particular organization of the senses of each indi- 
vidual, to be regarded as the real world. At a period 
when the true theory of perception was not understood, 
and the various " fallacies of the senses n were unex- 



194 APPENDIX. 

plained, sense-knowledge would naturally be discred- 
ited, and seem scarcely worthy of being considered 
knowledge. Thus, the inability to handle intelligibly 
and satisfactorily the world as it presents itself to the 
senses, drove these philosophers to the speculation of 
the ideal world, in which no such difficulties and con- 
tradictions occur. The succession of philosophers here 
referred to, though differing considerably in their views, 
and not all of them historically very closely connected, 
constitute what has been called the Italic School of 
philosophy. 

12. Pythagoras, the first in the series, was born in 
Samos, an island of the iEgean Sea, about 600 B.C., 
but spent the greater part of his mature life at Crotona, 
in the southern part of Italy. His fundamental doc- 
trine was, " number is the principle of things." By this 
he could not have meant that number was the material 
or constitutive principle of things, but their determin- 
ing principle, since number or proportion dominates in 
all things. Things are and can be only copies of cer- 
tain forms or proportions. Such a doctrine was easily 
carried out into the mystical notions of number and 
harmony ascribed to Pythagoras and his followers. 
The soul, which he regarded as fire in its substance, 
was a copy of unity, the perfect number, and in allu- 
sion perhaps to his doctrine of the transmigration of 
souls, was called a " self-moving unit." At the same 
time, the divine mind was the primitive unit, from 
which all human minds were derived, and to which 
they stood related as units of an inferior order. The 
philosophy of Pythagoras has been called mathemati- 
cal, but as it assumed a rational rather than a physical 
ground of nature, it deserves rather to be ranked as 



APPENDIX. 195 

metaphysical, with that of the Eleatic philosophers, to 
which we now proceed. 

13. Xenophanes the founder of the other great 
branch of the Italic Philosophy, called the Eleatic (from 
Elea, in Italy, the seat of the school), was born at Col- 
ophon, in Asia Minor, about the same time as Pythag- 
oras, and having wandered from place to place in the 
character of a philosophic rhapsodist, finally settled in 
the above-named place in Italy. Although he alludes 
to Pythagoras, he does not seem to have had any proper 
historical connection with him. Indeed, his system, 
though having the common peculiarity of assuming a 
rational rather than a material ground for things, was 
entirely different, both in the character of its initial 
principle, and in its details. Instead of the barely har- 
monizing, or at most, but logically causal principle of 
number, Xenophanes assumed as the ground and op- 
erating cause of the changes in outward nature, an 
uncaused, independent, and intelligent Divinity. All 
outward changes were caused by the acts of his voli- 
tion, and, apparently, were operated in a real world 
distinct from himself. 

14. Parmenides, commonly supposed to have been 
the disciple of Xenophanes, was a native of Elea, and 
further carried out the system of his master. With 
him, the Deity of Xenophanes became The One, or 
Absolute Being. The phenomenal world was but an 
illusion — but a contexture of mental phantasms, with- 
out any reality corresponding to it. Real thought 
was confined to the absolute alone ; so that thought 
and being were one. " He distinctly recognized 
that the existent, as such, is unconnected with all 
separation or juxtaposition, as well as with all sue- 



196 APPENDIX. 

cession, all relation to space or time, all coming into 
existence, and all change ; from which arose the prob- 
lem of all subsequent metaphysics, to reconcile the 
mutually opposed ideas of Existence and Coming into 
Existence" 

15. Zeno, the last of the series of philosophers 
known distinctly as Eleatic, and a favorite disciple of 
Parmenides, was born at Elea about 500 b.c, and 
visited Athens with his master when about forty years 
old. He seems to have accepted the system of Par- 
menides as he left it, and to have devoted himself 
wholly to the task of defending it. To defend the one, 
he had to disprove the possibility of the many. This 
he attempted by exhibiting dialectically the contradic- 
tions involved in the common space-and-time relations. 
These contradictions are: 1. that as any space is infi- 
nitely divisible, no motion can commence in it; 2. that 
hence, the swiftest moving object cannot overtake that 
which moves most slowly ; 3. that a body supposed to 
be in motion, inasmuch as it occupies space, must ac- 
tually be at rest ; 4. that one and the same space of 
time is both long and short. These are the subjects 
of his famous fallacies, some of which, at least, still 
await a solution. Zeno invented and applied to phi- 
losophy the method of Dialectics, which afterwards 
became so famous in the hands of Socrates and Plato, 
and was so abused by the Megarian philosophers. 

16. Empedocles, of Agrigentum, in Sicily (born 
about 450 b.c), belongs in spirit, as well as in local- 
ity, to the general class of Italic philosophers, though 
holding many Ionic and other views. He conceived 
the world as composed of four distinct elements, origi- 
nally combined in a sort of chaos (called by him a 



APPENDIX. 197 

sphere), with two developing forces, love and hate. 
This totality of elements and forces he called God. 
He was, therefore, what in modern phrase is called a 
Pantheist; since his deity combined in himself both 
matter and developing power, so as to produce all things 
out of himself. The One or God of the Eleatics was 
thus retained, but more in the character of the self-de- 
veloping principles of the Ionics. In the assumption 
of a chaos of different elements, he may seem to have 
borrowed from Anaxagoras and with him to have pre- 
pared the way for the atomic theory of Democritus, as 
he certainly did for the theory of perception held by 
this latter philosopher. Empedocles seems to have 
first propounded the doctrine, which, under various 
forms, has had so much influence in the history of phi- 
losophy, * that u like is only perceived by like." Parti- 
cles, he taught, are continually emanating from objects, 
which, entering the body through the pores, come in 
contact with like particles in the human frame, and are 
thus perceived ; as though perception was a sort of 
chemical action between particles. 

17. Democritus, then (born at Abdera, in Thrace, 
about 460 b.c), the chief founder f and cultivator of 
the Atomic Philosophy, related as are his views to 
those of both Empedocles and Anaxagoras, naturally 
closes the double movement of Greek philosophy on 
the opposite shores of Ionia and Italy, that a new and 
more hopeful movement may commence from Athens, 

* See Wight's Hamilton, p. 190, note. 

t Leucippus is called the founder of the school ; but as he has left no 
record of his views, they are known only through Democritus and other 
reporters. Democritus, it will be recollected, is known as the laughing 
philosopher, in contrast with Hcraclitus, the crying philosopher. 



198 APPENDIX. 

which has come to be the true centre of Grecian influ- 
ence and refinement. As already stated, Democritus 
adopted substantially the doctrine held by Empedocles, 
of perception through the emanation of material par- 
ticles or films from objects, brought into contact with 
corresponding atoms in the human frame. At the same 
time, the atoms of Democritus may have been suggested 
by the distinct elementary substances of Empedocles 
and Anaxagoras, though they differed from these ele- 
ments in the important particulars of being indivisible, 
homogeneous, varying only in form, and, since existing 
in a vacuum, susceptible of motion, and hence of gen- 
eration or dissolution, which they were constantly un- 
dergoing by the power of Fate, thus constituting the 
phenomenal world. Besides, Democritus taught that all 
the senses were but modifications of touch, and seems 
to have made the distinction between the primary and 
secondary qualities of matter. His system was decid- 
edly materialistic, and was afterwards taken up and 
further elaborated by the Epicureans. 

18. As we have already seen, the scattered rays of 
philosophy were fast concentrating at Athens. First 
issuing from the eastern shores of the iEgean, they 
had rested a while upon " sunny Italy," and glanced 
even upon the hyperborean regions of Thrace, till now 
they were rapidly converging upon the art-crowned 
Acropolis of Athena. Nearly all the more distin- 
guished of the recent philosophers, both of the Ionic 
and of the Italic schools, had visited Athens, and many 
of them had taught and spent a large part of their life 
there. Thus was philosophy fairly inaugurated at this 
radiating centre of culture and influence. But, with 
the genuine philosophers, came also the sham philoso- 



APPENDIX. 199 

phers, called Sophists, or Wise Men, as professed 
teachers of the wisdom of the age. They were mostly 
from the outlying settlements of the Greeks, and gen- 
erally had studied philosophy in some of the schools 
already described. Their object was to popularize phi- 
losophy and make it practical ; to make the materials 
and culture wrought out by philosophy the basis of a 
liberal education for the ambitious youth of the free 
states of Greece, — in short, to adapt philosophy to pub- 
lic life, and make it speak and act. Their teaching, 
therefore, was a sort of philosophized rhetoric. Phil- 
osophy in their hands had no longer the simple aim of 
discovering truth ; it became a sort of art, or knack,* 
and hence was regarded by mere speculatists, like 
Plato, as but a mock-wisdom, a sham, f 

19. The leading sophists were Protagoras, Gor- 
gias, Hippias, and Prodicus. As professed teachers of 
practical wisdom they received pay for their instruc- 
tion. They doubtless differed from each other in many 
of their philosophical views, but all, apparently, held, 
with Protagoras, to a mere sense-knowledge of things, 
and that " the individual is the measure of all things." 
Hence, there was to them no absolute standard of truth 
and right ; these varied with each one's individual per- 
ceptions. It does not seem certain that they fully car- 
ried out this view to its legitimate results in morals, 
though Socrates showed them that it was as applica- 
ble to moral as to metaphysical distinctions, and as sub- 
versive of the one as of the other. Though justly 
chargeable with narrow and unsafe views in philosophy 
and morals, and of having contributed to the undermin- 

* See the Gorgias of Plato, 465, A., and at large. 

t See the chapter on the Sophists in Grote's History of Greece. 



200 APPENDIX. 

ing of morality by their rash and over-confident asser- 
tion of the sufficiency of the individual reason ; yet, as 
active, popular teachers of wisdom, they diffused knowl 
edge and awakened scientific inquiry much more ex- 
tensively among the people than they ever had been 
before, and laid the foundation for that wonderful intel- 
lectual activity and culture, which henceforth distin- 
guished Athens above all other Grecian cities. 

20. Contemporaneously with the Sophists, Socra- 
tes (born in one of the suburbs of Athens, 468 B.C.), 
the most remarkable and gifted of the Greek philoso- 
phers, makes his appearance on the stage of Atheniam 
history. The son of a sculptor and a midwife, he 
united in his character and views, the ideality of the 
artist with the practical skill of the artisan, and was 
equally expert in fashioning the conceptions of his pu- 
pils and in assisting them in being delivered of them. 
Springing from the middle class of society, and drawing 
his philosophy from his own experience and thoughts, 
rather than from books and professed teachers, he ever 
retained his sympathy and intercourse with the com- 
mon people, and hence held his discussions in the shops 
and at the corners of the streets, exhibiting and enforc- 
ing his views by such familiar and homely illustrations 
as all could comprehend. As described by Plato and 
Xenophon, he opposed himself, in these discussions, 
partly to the physical philosophers — whose specula- 
tions he considered not only as unfruitful, but as little 
less than irreverent — and partly to the Sophists. In 
opposition to the mere sense-knowledge and individual 
opinion of the latter class of philosophers, he appealed 
to the intuitive perceptions and general convictions of 
men, as a solid foundation for the stability of truth and 
duty. 



APPENDIX. 201 

21. Socrates left no writings, and indeed taught no 
complete system of philosophy. He merely awakened, 
" watered," and fructified the germs of philosophic 
thought in the minds of others. He introduced a new 
method, rather than a new system of truth. His method 
was that of induction, leading to valid definitions or 
conceptions. Starting with some one of the general 
notions relating to man or society, to truth or duty, he 
gradually led in the mind of his opponent farther and 
farther towards the centre or essence of the conception, 
by showing one thing after another, commonly included 
in the notion, to be inconsistent with, or non-essential to, 
it. He thus taught men how to revise and purify their 
thoughts, which is the great end of metaphysical phi- 
losophy.* In these discussions he necessarily exhibited 
his opinions upon most of the important questions in 
philosophy, politics, morals, and religion, which always 
leaned to the side of the permanent, the absolute, the 
ideal, as opposed to the empirical and the changeable. 
His most positive teachings pertain to morals, where 
he held the paradoxical sentiment, that virtue was but 
wisdom, and hence was a science which might be 
taught. Vice, then, was but the fruit of ignorance. 
This might all be true, were it not for the influence of 
passion and habit, or wrong bias. But these are so 
important disturbing influences as to entirely discredit 
the theory. As wisdom and virtue were the same, of 
course, virtue and happiness would be the same ; know- 
ing the right would lead to right action, and right 

* With Socrates, philosophy first became primarily a criticism of knowl- 
edge, a scrutiny of thought in order to determine its validity and value; 
and this has ever since been'the chief problem of metaphysical philoso- 
phy. 



202 APPENDIX. 

action to happiness, i.e., true happiness would be found 
alone in virtue ; which, also, we find to have been a 
doctrine of Socrates. 

22. From the vigorous root of the Socratic life and 
teaching there sprang up various offshoots, externally 
more or less akin to the parent stock, but generally 
quite alien in nature, and often engrafted with germs 
from other stocks. The extraordinary personal interest 
connected with the character and teaching of Socrates 
drew around him disciples of different temperaments and 
aims, as well as those with different local prejudices 
and variously pre-occupied by antecedent instruction in 
the other schools. At the same time, the wide and free 
scope of his instruction, as well as the peculiarity and 
somewhat undeveloped state of some of his doctrines, 
gave opportunity for different interpretations, and a ba- 
sis for the rearing of widely differing systems. We 
should not be surprised, therefore, to find his disciples 
splitting up into varying sects immediately after his 
death. Free thought always produces sects, whether 
in philosophy or religion. The chief of these sects are 
the following : — 

23. (I.) The Megaric School. The seat of this 
school was Megara, and the founder Euclid (not the 
mathematician), who was born at Megara about 440 
b.c. Euclid had been a disciple of the Eleatic Parmen- 
ides before he heard Socrates. His system, therefore, 
very naturally partook of that of both his teachers ; — 
it appears to have been simply that of the One Eleatic, 
invested with the ethical coloring of Socrates. His one 
was The Good, but whether he attached any distinctly- 
ethical meaning to the good se^ms uncertain. It is 
doubtful whether his ethical element was any thing 



APPENDIX. 203 

more than a coloring of Socratic language, while his 
real views were substantially the same as the Eleatics, 
not merely identifying virtue and science, as Socrates 
had done, but absorbing the moral into the rational, and 
making speculation the Chief Good. Euclid was fol- 
lowed by Eubulides, Diodorus, Alexinus, and Stilpo 
in the same general line of philosophizing. Like the 
Eleatics, their great instrument was logic, which they 
abused even more than Zeno. Stilpo more fully de- 
veloped the ethical aspects of The One, by regarding the 
internal consciousness of personality as but an illusion, 
like the external consciousness of the phenomenal world, 
and making a profound impersonal indifference the high- 
est attainable excellence. He was thus the author of 
the Stoical doctrine of apathy, afterwards so celebrated. 
24. (II.) The Cyrenaic School. This school was 
founded by Aristippus of Cyrene in Africa, a man 
of wealth and gayety, who, visiting Athens in the time 
of Socrates became his disciple, and remained with 
him till near the time of his death, when he quitted 
Athens, and after several years of travel in quest of 
knowledge and indulgence, finally returned to Cyrene 
and put forth his doctrine of u Pleasure the Chief 
Good." With him, the doctrine of Socrates, that vir- 
tue is happiness, was inverted, so as to become, happi- 
ness, or rather, pleasure, is virtue. The rule of pleas- 
ure was the rule of right, not the reverse. Pleasure 
and pain were the true criteria of actions ; there was 
no higher criterion, no other indeed. Pleasures did not 
even differ in kind, they were all on a level. His doc- 
trine was, the greatest present enjoyment is the greatest 
good, not holding even to a regulated happiness, as the 
Epicureans did later. Such a philosophy was but 



204 APPENDIX. 

little more than a license to indulgence, and of course, 
could not have had much credit with serious and ear- 
nest men. It is scarcely worth naming, except as the 
precursor of Epicureanism. 

25. (III.) The Cynic School. — This was established 
by Antisthenes, an austere disciple of Socrates, in a 
quarter of Athens called Cynosarges, whence, probably, 
the name of the school. As a school of philoso- 
phy it is of little account ; it had no philosophic sys- 
tem deserving the name, but only a repulsive, snarl- 
ing asceticism. It cannot be denied that there was 
something bordering upon asceticism, both in the 
rigid virtue and singular if not shabby dress of Socra- 
tes. There was, also, a certain contempt and defiance 
of common opinions in his doctrines and manners. 
These were easily exaggerated by austere natures into 
the disgusting asceticism of the Cynics. Both the 
founder, and his most distinguished disciple, Diogenes, 
were known by the common appellation, "the dog," 
from their filthy, snarling habits. They possessed, un- 
doubtedly, a certain rude wit and virtue, and have left 
many pointed and pithy sayings, but are of little ac- 
count as speculative philosophers. They are only 
named here as precursors of the Stoics. 

26. Plato alone (born at Athens 430 B.C.), in his 
system of philosophy, truly represented the spirit of his 
master. Joining him at the age of twenty, and remain- 
ing with him some eight years, he fully imbibed his 
spirit. He was the " beloved disciple," who sympathet- 
ically received the whole spirit of the life and philoso- 
phy of his master into the soil of a rich and congenial 
nature, where it vegetated and brought forth fruit to 
perfection. But his system, though thoroughly Socratic 



APPENDIX. 205 

in spirit, is a great enlargement of that of .lis master, 
and embraces many other elements. After the death 
of Socrates, he left Athens and spent some twelve years 
abroad, visiting the different schools of Greek philoso- 
phy, and extending his travels even to Sicily and 
Egypt. He was thus prepared by his extensive ac- 
quaintance with different systems, as well as by his 
comprehensive genius, to survey the whole field of an- 
tecedent philosophy from a Socratic point of view, and 
harmonize the various conflicting views in an en- 
larged and purified reproduction of the system of his 
master. Accordingly, on his return from his travels, at 
the age of forty, he established himself as teacher of 
philosophy, just outside of the city, upon a small estate 
inherited from his father, within the enclosure of the 
public garden or gymnasium, called the Academy, 
which henceforth became the name of his school. 
Here he was soon surrounded with a band of disciples, 
and, with only two considerable interruptions, on occa- 
sion of his second and third visits to Sicily, continued 
his instruction and the preparation of his extensive 
works to the end of his life, at the age of eighty-one. 

27. Plato continued the distinction of the Eleatics 
and Pythagoreans between the permanent and the 
phenomenal world, but in a much more fruitful and 
consistent form. The great aim of the teaching of 
Socrates, as we have seen, was to establish clear and 
true conceptions of things in the minds of his pupils. 
In perfect accordance with this, we find the central 
principle of the system of Plato to have been, the doc- 
trine of ideas, or conceptions objectified, and made real. 
These were his permanent world, being both the origi- 
nal archetypal forms of things, and the permanent ele- 



206 APPENDIX. 

raent in nature, which alone was perceived, all else 
being changeable, phenomena], producing only decep- 
tive sensations. Matter, with him, was a mere poten- 
tiality, or condition for the appearance of ideas under a 
contingent form, its whole reality and perceptibility 
depending upon its participation in the eternal arche- 
types. The impression made on the organism, or sen- 
sitive soul, as he called it, by external objects, was not 
a knowledge of these objects ; it was only the appre- 
hension by the reason of the ideal element in the object 
that was true perception, which apprehension was but 
a reviving ("reminiscence") of a knowledge obtained 
in an antecedent state of existence, when reason stood 
face to face with being. 

28. Professor Butler * thus briefly states the grounds 
and consequences of the Platonic theory of perception 
by ideas : " 1st, that a true knowledge or communion 
of reason with the reality of things is ensured by the 
kindred, or even homogeneous, nature of reason and 
ideas ; 2ndly, that this intimate connection is testified 
by the impassioned aspiration f of the instructed soul 
for the perfection to be found only in the ideal world ; 
3dly, that the great business of the philosophic culti- 
vator of his intelligence, is, by the constant exercise of 
accurate abstraction, to fit the qualities of sense to rep- 
resent the everlasting models of the sphere of truth 
and being ; 4thly, that we may well conclude the ra- 
tional nature of man, formed as it is for ideal concep- 
tion, to be eternal as ideas themselves ; and though the 
sensible world itself is, by the participation of ideas, 
as perfect as the dull obduracy of its material subject 

* Lectures on the History of Ancient Philosophy, vol. ii. p. 147. 
t Referring to the Platonic Eros, or love for the ideal. 



APPENDIX. 207 

will permit, yet to the philosophic soul it can never 
appear in any other light than as a restriction to the 
inborn energies of the spirit, suggesting, indeed, the 
absolutely good and fair and true, but clouding and 
concealing the very perfection it suggests.' 7 

29. The predominant spirit and aim of the philoso- 
phy of Plato is eminently ethical. It proposes as its 
object, the purification of the soul by the contemplation 
of ideal truth and excellence. The True, the Beauti- 
ful, and the Good are all one ; or rather, the two former 
are merged in the latter, — the true and the fair both 
alike minister to the good. The Good or the Perfect 
is alike the end of both. The study of truth, therefore, 
is the study of goodness ; and philosophy is the purifi- 
cation of the soul. This is only carrying out to its 
consequences the doctrine of Socrates, that knowledge 
is virtue. True happiness, too, was the fruit of philos- 
ophy, with Plato, as it had been of virtue or wisdom, 
with Socrates. Thus philosophy was the chief good 
with him, but only because it was the pursuit of the 
Good through the True. Indeed, the Good was the 
grand end of God himself, both in making the world 
and in all his acts. The Good determined all his ac- 
tions, as it should those of men. 

30. To borrow again from that admirable expounder 
of the doctrines of Plato, Professor Butler:* "This 
principle of Rationality is a direct consequence from 
the entire scheme of Platonism. The system supposes 
the orginal unity of the Beautiful, the Just, and the 
Good, in the True; the True being, as it were, the 
supporting or substantiating ; the Good, the character- 
izing idea ; the Beautiful and Just accompanying both : 

* Lectures on the History of Ancient Philostphy, vol. ii. n p. 283, scg. 



208 APPENDIX. 

the True being the very reality of things ; the Good, 
the final cause of their being; and the others investing 
the True out of the strength of that final cause, — for 
wherever is the &ya$6v [the good], there will infallibly 
be the highest measure of harmonious proportion ; and 
proportion is the essential idea of both the Beautiful 
and the Just. . . The great requisite of virtue, then, is 
to gain the intuition of these ideal excellencies ; and 
the original fitness of the soul to meet them is so cer- 
tain, that it cannot be conceived that it can really ap- 
prehend these eternal objects without yielding to their 
divine attraction. . . . You will not, then, be surprised 
to find that the perfection, of which virtue is the ef- 
fort, is by Plato described as Snoiuoic defi, assimilation to 
God. This assimilation is the enfranchisement of the 
divine element of the soul. To approach Him as the 
substance of truth, is science; as the substance of 
goodness in truth, is wisdom ; as the substance of 
beauty in goodness and truth, is love." 

31. Plato carried the same lofty spirit of specula- 
tion into his social, political, and even his physical 
system. His ideal state is but a community of philos- 
ophers, in which rank and authority are determined by 
wisdom, and the various relations and duties of life 
regulated by philosophy. Blind custom, superstition 
and prejudice were no longer to rule, but men, on the 
one hand, were to be controlled by the restraints of rea- 
son, and on the other, to have all the license supposed to 
be allowed by reason. We are prepared to expect that 
a social state established on so entirely ideal principles, 
without any regard to the lessons of experience, and 
even in contemptuous disregard of their authority, 
would tolerate e^ravagances and be marked by de- 



APPENDIX. 209 

fects, similar to those seen in systems conceived in the 
like spirit in modern times, and even in our own day, 
which we find to be the case. The Platonic State, with 
all its lofty ideality, is in substance, a sort of compound 
of the despotism of the Monarchy of Hobbes, and the 
license of the Socialism of Fourier, joined to that of the 
Mormonism of Brigham Young. His physical sys- 
tem,* too, was wholly ideal, and conjectural. His uni- 
verse was built up from his imagination, without resort 
to a single experiment. It was, indeed, professedly but 
an attempt at ideal wor!d-building, an attempt to draw 
out an imaginary scheme of things which might repre- 
sent " the exquisite order and simplicity by which act- 
ual results may have been brought to pass," and thus, 
"deepen and vivify our notions of the harmony of the 
universe, and the consequent wisdom and goodness of 
its Author." 

32. The successors of Plato in the Academy were, 
first, Speusippus, his nephew, then Xenocrates, Po- 
lemo, Crates, and Grantor (caHed thus far the Old 
Academy), and afterwards (to mention only a few of 
the leading names of the New Academy), Arcesilaus, 
Carneades, Philo, and Antiochus ; the two latter con- 

* Plato first conceived in order to account for the celestial changes, the 
system of concentric orbs or cycles, revolving within each other, and 
hearing on their interior surface the different heavenly bodies. His sys- 
tem embraced but eight such cycles (see the diagragm in Stalbaum's 
edition of the Timceus, p. 36, b.). Afterwards the number was increased 
by others, and eccentrics and epicycles added, till it broke down from its 
cumbrousness. It is to this system that Milton (p.l.b., 8, 83) alludes, as 
the fruit of the perverse ingenuity of man, which disfigured rather than 
explained nature : — 

" With centric and eccentric scribbled o'er, 
Cycle and epicycle, orb in orb." 



210 APPENDIX. 

temporary with Cicero, who was himself, in the main, 
an Academician, though with strong eclectic tendencies 
None of these were men of the lofty spirit and genius 
of the founder, and hence were unable to maintain the 
dignity and glory of his school. Incapable of soaring 
to his knowledge of the ideal, they abandoned it as 
hopeless. Thus left to the empirical element alone, 
to mere sense-knowledge, they soon sank into a set- 
tled scepticism * as to the certainty of all knowledge, 
which they held could never rise above belief or proba- 
bility. They maintained, against the Stoics, the "rep- 
resentative " theory of perception, and the insufficiency 
of any impressions or representations, derivable by the 
mind through the senses from external objects, to the 
establishment of knowledge. " The impossibility of 
absolute certainty [says Professor Butler], the value of 
high probability, — these are the dominant maxims 
of the Academic philosophy." 

33. On the contrary, in Neo-Platontsm, the out- 
lines of which were first taught in Alexandria by Am- 
monias Saccas, about two hundred years after Christ, 
and which subsequently spread to Rome and Athens, 
the ideal element of Plato was seized upon, and carried 
out to ruinous excess. Like the genuine Platonism, it 
held to a knowledge of the absolute, not, however, 
through the intervention of ideas in ihe human mind, 

* The absolute scepticism ofPyrrho, Timon, Aenesidemus , Sextus Empiri- 
cus, etc., was but an exaggeration of the moderate scepticism of the New 
Academy, and in part, indeed, was historically affiliated with it. Their 
general doctrine was, that nothing actually existed as it seemed, and that 
such were the contradictions and perplexities in all pretended knowledge, 
that the repose necessary to happiness could be found only by maintain- 
ing an entire suspension of judgment and all positive assertions about 
things. 



APPENDIX. 211 

but by a sort of ecstatic absorption of the individual 
reason into the Infinite Reason, so that it became con- 
scious of whatever that was conscious of. New Pla- 
tonism was an attempt to construct, on the general 
basis of Plato's system, a philosophy capable of rival- 
ling and even superseding Christianity. Hence its 
claim of ecstatic vision and superhuman illumination. 
But these very pretensions, by which it hoped to be- 
come a religion as well as a philosophy, proved its ruin. 
Its mystic enthusiasm soon degenerated into magic 
and sorcery and all manner of extravagance.* Thus 
the direct continuations of Platonism, in both its 
branches, had failed to realize the fair promise which 
the system gave as it came from the hands of its au- 
thor. 

34. Aristotle, to go back now to the time of Plato, 
was the truest representative of his master. He was 
the son of Nicomachus, an eminent physician of Sta- 
gira, in Thrace, and was born 384 b.c. Coming to 
Athens in his seventeenth year, he soon after became a 
pupil of Plato at the Academy, and remained such for 
about seventeen years, till the death of his master. Al- 
though pursuing different lines of inquiry from Plato, 
and coming to quite different results, the central idea 
and method of his system are plainly traceable to his 
master. As Plato had developed the purified concep- 
tions and definitions of Socrates into positively exist- 
ing ideas, apprehended in experience as a reminiscence 

* The chief masters of Neo-Platonism were, — at Alexandria, Iambli- 
cus and Hierocles, — at Rome, Plotinus, Porphyry, and Amelias, — and at 
Athens, Plutarchus, Syrianus, Proclus, Marinas, Isidorus, and Zenodotus, 
under which last teacher, in 529, the schools of Athens were closed by 
an edict of Justinian. 



212 APPENDIX. 

of a, previous knowledge, Aristotle reduced these ideas 
to mere mental abstractions elaborated by the reason 
through the recollections or reminiscence of actual ex- 
perience. In like manner, the Socratic method of in- 
vestigation became one of demonstration in his hands, 
and the dialectics of Plato re-appeared as formal logic 
in Aristotle. The " idea," therefore, was no longer an 
objective reality, but a subjective conception or thought. 
Still, as he supposed, a valid science of Being might be 
constructed from such empirical materials by passing 
them through the alembic of logic. Beginning thus 
soundly with experience, his philosophy ended in mis- 
taking consistency of formal thought for material truth. 

35. On the general question of the relation of the 
permanent to the phenomenal, Aristotle introduced the 
distinction of matter and form. With him, what is 
permanent in things is the simple, unformed matter or 
material of which they are composed, while particular, 
phenomenal objects are that general material under va- 
rious determinate and appreciable forms. The perma- 
nent, therefore, was mere potential being, while the 
phenomenal was actual being, — existence made actual 
by the Great Actor and Former of all things. Hence, 
the permanent and the changing, the infinite and the 
finite, were but the same general substance, in the one 
case without, and in the other with, form. 

36. Aristotle was an extensive and profound inves- 
tigator of nearly all the great subjects of human curios- 
ity and interest, as Logic, Physics, Metaphysics, Ethics, 
Politics, and Rhetoric. He treated all these subjects 
with a copiousness and precision unattained by any of 
his predecessors. Instead of the vague poetic style of 
preceding philosophers, he adopted the most rigidly pre* 



APPENDIX. 213 

eise and technical style, which expressed nothing but 
his bare ideas, and aimed to establish all his principles 
by solid arguments. He was unquestionably the most 
learned and profound of all the ancient philosophers. 
In him Greek philosophy reached its culminating point, 
and soon declined through various partial systems, as 
Stoicism, Epicurianism, Scepticism, and Neiv Platon- 
ism — of which, the two last-named systems have already 
been characterized ; so that it remains, only, briefly to 
describe the two former, in order to complete the sur- 
vey of Greek philosophy. 

37. Stoicism (so called from the stoa, or portico, 
where it was taught), as already stated, was the rival 
and antagonist of the New Academy. The two 
schools were at decided variance on the theory of 
knowledge, the former holding, though with some 
vagueness and vacillation, to an intuitive or immediate 
consciousness of external objects in perception, the lat- 
ter, to only an inferential knowledge of them, through 
the medium of a representative image, somehow re- 
ceived or formed in sensation. The difference, in this 
respect, between the two schools, seems to have been 
substantially the same as that between the two branches 
of the Scotch school, represented, on the one side, by 
Reid and Hamilton, and on the other, by Brown.* 
With the one, therefore, knowledge was valid and cer- 
tain, with the other, only probable. The Stoics stoutly 
resisted the scepticism of their age, as Reid and his fol- 
lowers did that of theirs. 

38. But the predominant aim of stoicism was ethi- 
cal. Their psychology was but a carefully laid foun- 

* See his twenty-fifth Lecture, and Hamilton's Review of Reid's Works, 
Philosophical Discussions, p. 38 — 98. 



214 APPENDIX. 

daiion upon which they might securely raise the super- 
structure of their moral system. Zeno (of Citium, in 
the island of Cyprus), who founded the school, came 
to Athens when a young man, and became a disciple 
of Crates, of the Cynic school. And though he after- 
wards attended the school at Megara, and the Acad- 
emy, he always retained the strong ethical tendency 
of his first instructors, and something even of their as- 
ceticism. In his system, and that of his followers, 
God was little more than the laws of nature, its for- 
mative and actuating soul. To act according to nature, 
then, was to do the will of God, and hence was the 
highest virtue. Accordingly, conduct was to be con- 
trolled by reason taking a calm and comprehensive 
survey of the order of nature, and not by impulse or 
the love of pleasure. Happiness and all external ad- 
vantages were regarded as mere accidental concomi- 
tants of action, not as a real good, or end of nature. 
The system not only placed happiness below the right, 
but disregarded it altogether, and endeavored to re- 
place all emotion by a profound indifference and ap- 
athy. The great masters of the Stoic philosophy, after 
the founder, were Cleanthes, Chrysippus, and later, 
PancetiuS) and Posidonius. 

39. Epicureanism, founded and taught at Athens by 
Epicurus (born 342 b.c), in what was called the Gar- 
den, was an exaggeration in the opposite direction. As 
the Stoics rejected happiness altogether, as an end of 
life, the Epicureans made it the chief end of life ; not, 
indeed, the happiness of unrestrained gratification, of 
whatever sort, like the Cyrenaic school, but yet mere 
happiness, as such. Epicureanism was not a system 
of mere sensualism or momentary indulgence, but rather 



APPENDIX. 215 

of self-interest. It required a subordination and sys- 
tematization of the different kinds of happiness, but 
only as such a course is necessary in order to attain the 
greatest amount of happiness on the whole. Conduct 
was to be regulated, but by no higher standard than 
that of an enlightened self-interest. It recognized no 
immutable law of right and wrong, and hence left each 
one to be governed by the wholly uncertain standard 
of his individual conception of what was for his own 
good. At the same time, it made happiness consist 
largely in the absence of pain and care, and hence ex- 
empted the gods from all interest or concern in the 
affairs of men. * 

40. These are all the important forms assumed by 
Greek philosophy during the course of its eventful his- 
tory. The Socratic movement, with all its fruitfulness 
and wide-spread influence, had now exhausted itself. 
Stoicism, Epicureanism, and the Academic philosophy, 
continued to divide the opinions of men, till they were 
all, together with that new and more pretentious form 
of Platonism, already described, superseded and ab- 
sorbed by the more positive faith of the Gospel. The 
Greek language and philosophy were carried into the 
East by the conquests of Alexander;, and into the West 
by the conquests of Rome, but they never became 
thoroughly naturalized in either of these regions. Sto- 
icism was not without its admirers and disciples in the 
stern patriots and military classes of Rome, as Epicu- 
reanism w r as not, among her luxurious and self-indul- 
gent classes, and even the Academic philosophy, among 

* The physical and psychological views of the Epicureans were merely 
a fanner elaboration of the Atomic system of Democritus, which has al- 
ready been described. 



216 APPENDIX. 

her men of genius and learning, like Cicero ; but nei- 
ther here nor at Alexandria did they receive any new 
development, except in the single form of New Pla- 
tonism, which was rather a corruption than a true car- 
rying out of the original system. Neither the stern, 
imperial West, nor the dreamy, mystic East, was con- 
genial to the true spirit of philosophy. 

41. Grecian philosophy had now run its course, and 
fallen before the onward march of Christianity. But 
soon thought began again to assert its independence, 
and demand a reason for the faith of the Church. To 
meet this demand was the object of Scholasticism. 
Seeing her doctrines assailed, the sages of the Church, 
such as Anselm, Abelard, Thomas Aquinas, and Duns 
Scotus (1034-1308), set themselves at work, from vari- 
ous points of view, to establish the rationality of their 
creed. For this purpose, they made use of the mate- 
rials furnished by the antecedent Greek philosophy, 
and especially of the system of Aristotle, whom they 
were wont to designate, by way of eminence, " the phi- 
losopher," and who supplied them with their phraseol- 
ogy and chief principles. They elaborated their sys- 
tem with great industry and ingenuity, forming a 
framework of dialectical subtleties which carried the 
mind off from the real nature of things, and rather 
confused than convinced it. After a long and earnest 
struggle, the attempt at reconciliation finally failed, 
and religion was left to its own peculiar province, that 
of the practical reason, which proceeds upon convic- 
tions and postulates of its own, while philosophy re- 
tained possession of the sphere of the speculative rea- 
son, which deals only in conceptions demonstratively 
established. 



APPENDIX. 217 

42. The downfall of Scholasticism was effected only 
after the most obstinate resistance, and through the in- 
fluence of various co-operating causes. Among these 
were the Revival of Letters from the dispersion of 
Greek scholars over Western Europe, on the breaking 
up of the Eastern Empire, the Protestant Reformation, 
and the advancement of Physical Science under Co- 
pernicus, Kepler, Galileo, and Bacon. For, though 
Bacon did not, like the other philosophers here named, 
devote himself to physical studies and experiments, he 
drew out in the most imposing and attractive form, the 
method of conducting such studies, and most emphati- 
cally and authoritatively asserted the necessity of quit- 
ting the barren subtleties of Scholasticism, and return- 
ing to the direct study of nature. Other philosophers, 
as Bruno in Italy, and Boehme in Germany, promoted 
the same tendency, though in a more obscure and mys- 
tical way. At length, thought was again emancipated, 
and soon began to evince its independence in commenc- 
ing the foundations of Modern Philosophy. 

43. Modern Philosophy begins with Descartes 
(born at La Haye, in Touraine, 1596). Dissatisfied 
with the results of the philosophy of former ages, he 
attempted the construction of an entirely new fabric 
of philosophic thought — a fabric which should be solid 
and impregnable against all doubt. He starts with the 
simple consciousness of self-existence. His famous 
cogito, ergo sum, simply asserted his existence as a 
thinking being, on the ground that he was conscious of 
thinking. That we think cannot be doubted, for to 
doubt is to think, and hence doubting proves think- 
ing; as far forth as one is conscious of thinking, so 
far forth he necessarily exists as a thinking being. The 



218 APPENDIX. 

truth of our existence, then, is established beyond cavil. 
At the same time, the assurance with which we receive 
this jruth becomes a rule for the reception of other 
truths — we may receive any thing else as true, when 
we know it with the same clearness and certainty with 
which we know our own existence. Yet our certainty 
of any thing out of ourselves wants some further 
voucher for its actual objective existence besides our 
internal conviction. 

44. Here Descartes calls to his aid the idea of God, 
which he regarded as innate^ or implanted in us by God 
himself. And this innate conception of God he held 
to be such, as to forbid the supposition of his having 
so made us that we should unhesitatingly receive as 
true what is really false. Whatever, then, in the legit- 
imate use of our powers of perception and reasoning, 
we feel forced to receive as true, is so. God is no de- 
ceiver, knowledge is no deception. At the same time, 
Descartes proceeds to deduce from the idea of God, 
the nature of substance, both material and immaterial, 
and to build up an entire philosophy of nature. This 
certainly is making the idea of God a pretty fruitful 
one, not merely in moral but in philosophical results. 
Such deductions may appear highly plausible, may in- 
deed possess a high degree of probability, but must be 
destitute of that demonstrative certainty demanded by 
philosophy, especially by a system of philosophy which 
professes to take nothing on trust. This working back- 
ward, therefore, to establish truth and existence from 
the idea of God is unsatisfactory. Indeed, it seems 
rather crude and credulous to assume the idea of God 
as innate ; though perhaps in this and other cases, Des- 
cartes meant by innate, merely that the form of the 



APPENDIX. 219 

conception is ready furnished by the mind — that our 
mental constitution is such that we inevitably conceive 
things so and so, on experience. 

45. According to Descartes, matter possesses the sole 
property of extension, and mind the sole property of 
thought. They have nothing in common, but each is 
the negation of the other. Their intercourse is only 
maintained supematurally by the intervention of the 
Deity. The soul is conceived as seated at the centre 
of the brain, in the pineal gland, and as being deter- 
mined to perception by certain motions produced in 
that organ by the action of external objects upon the 
senses. External objects themselves, therefore, are not 
perceived, nor even the images or motions of them • 
they are merely, through the divine assistance, the occa- 
sions* of perception. Mind and matter were thus 
clearly distinguished, — more so, perhaps, than in any 
antecedent system, — but, at the same time they were 
made so independent of each other as to render it diffi- 
cult to conceive how the intercourse between them was 
to be maintained. 

46. Malebranche (born at Paris, 1638), a zealous 
Cartesian, feeling the difficulty of mediating between 
mind and matter according to his master's view, sought 
a medium of perception in which the opposition be- 
tween them should be overcome. Such a medium he 
found in God himself. Instead of calling in the inter- 
vention of God in perception, like Descartes, he trans- 
ferred human perception wholly to him as a medium. 
God as the absolute substance, from which all other 

* This was virtually Descartes' doctrine of perception, though the doc- 
trine of Occasional Causes was explicitly drawn out only hy his disciples 
De la Forge, Geulinx, etc. See Wight's Hamilton, p. 205, note. 



220 APPENDIX. 

substances are derived, was regarded as containing ah 
things ideally in himself. Nature, thus spiritualized in 
God, might be perceived by spirit, and was actually 
brought into relation to our spirits by the all-embracing 
presence of God. God, in whom all nature was real- 
ized, was at the same time the place of souls. Thus 
we know and see all things in God. * 

47. Spinoza (born at Amsterdam, 1632), commenc- 
ing an earnest student of Descartes, soon abandoned 
as hopeless the task of mediating between mind and 
matter on Cartesian principles, and boldly transferred 
the thought and extension, by which Descartes charac- 
terized mind and matter respectively, to a single sub- 
ject. Indeed, thought and extension, in his system, are 
but correlative qualities, the one subjective and the 
other objective, if not, indeed, merely the opposite sides 
of the same quality, as apprehended by the human un- 
derstanding. All finite, phenomenal objects are but 
modes of this infinite substance, related to it as waves 
are to the ocean. In man and other finite intelligent 
beings, the general thought of God comes to a distinct 
unity of consciousness, as his extension is developed 
into distinct forms in different material objects. The 
world in all its forms, and in all its aspects of thought, 
life, change, and motion, is but the unfolding of God 
according to the necessities of his own nature. Thus 



* Arnauld, a contemporary and fellow-countryman of Malebranche, was 
also a distinguished cultivator of the Cartesian philosophy. But he con- 
tributed nothing towards the mediation of mind and matter, which was 
the chief difficulty in the system of his master. Indeed, as he does not 
seem to have held to an immediate perception of external objects, his 
discarding all mediating ideas derived from these objects — important as 
the step was in itself — rather increased than relieved the difficulty. 



APPENDIX. 221 

all proper personality and moral character are destroyed 
in both man and God. 

48. The main positions of his system are thus briefly 
stated by Lewes : " There is but one infinite Substance, 
and that is God. Whatever is, is in God ; and with- 
out him nothing can be conceived. He is the univer- 
sal Being, of which all things are the manifestations. 
He is the sole Substance ; every thing else is a Mode ; 
yet without Substance, Mode cannot exist. God, 
viewed under the attributes of Infinite Substance, is 
the natura naturans, — viewed as a manifestation, as 
the Modes under which his attributes appear, he is 
the natura naturata. He is the cause of all things, 
and that immanently, but not transiently. He has 
two infinite attributes — Extension and Thought. Ex- 
tension is visible Thought, and Thought is invisible 
Extension : they are the Objective and Subjective of 
which God is the Identity. Every thing is a mode of 
God's attribute of Extension ; every thought, wish, or 
feeling, a mode of his attribute of Thought. Sub- 
stance is uncreated, but creates by the internal neces- 
sity of its nature. There may be many existing things, 
but only one existence ; many forms, but only one Sub- 
stance. God is the ' idea immanens' — the One and 
All." These points are established by a most rigid 
course of demonstrative reasoning, proceeding by defi- 
nitions, axioms, proposition, etc., after the manner of 
geometry. And here precisely is the ground of his 
error. Mathematical reasoning develops only the con- 
tents and relations of quantitative conceptions, not the 
nature of being, or the reality of things. 

49. The next independent attempt at philosophizing 
was made by John Locke (born at Wrington, 1632), 



222 APPENDIX. 

the founder of English philosophy. His philosophy is 
of the empirical sort, and decidedly materialistic in its 
tendency. He had been preceded in the same line by 
his fellow-countryman, Thomas Hobbes, * but only in 
a random, fragmentary way. Locke's fundamental 
principle is, that the mind of m^an starts with nothing, 
and ends with nothing, except what it derives either di- 
rectly or indirectly from experience, — that it has merely 
the power of receiving, retaining, and combining what is 
given in experience. All its treasured knowledge, when 
analyzed, is resolvable into ideas of sensation and ideas 
of reflection ; i.e., into the ideas which are given di- 
rectly in the perception of external objects, and those 
which arise in the mind from the contemplation of 
these. Starting with this principle, it is the great busi- 
ness of his philosophy to reduce all knowledge to these 
two classes of ideas, which he attempts to do by an 
elaborate analysis of the contents of the mind. 

50. The defects of such a system are obvious. If 
the mind imparts nothing in perception, if it be wholly 
dependent upon experience for its knowledge, then it is 
altogether a subordinate power, determined wholly from 
without. Besides, how can knowledge be verified if 
there be not some fixed principles of thought — some 
necessary laws of thought or modes of conception, to 
which we can appeal as attesting the validity of our 
experience? If the mind does not itself conceive some 
things as being necessarily so and so, there are no start- 
ing-points to knowledge, and every thing may be 
doubted. And that there are such primary principles 



* Hobbes is chiefly known as a psychologist by his theory of the Associ- 
ation of Ideas. 






APPENDIX. 223 

of knowledge is often unconsciously admitted by- 
Locke himself; as where he admits that it is illegiti- 
mate to dispute whether a thing can " both be and not 
be," and allows that we have an idea of substance, 
though it clearly is not and cannot be known by expe- 
rience. A system so partial could hardly fail of soon 
being carried out to its absurd consequences, which was 
actually done, and that in two different directions. 

51. In its most obvious tendency towards material- 
ism, while it was universally tolerated, and in some in- 
stances even exaggerated, by contemporaneous and 
succeeding English philosophers, as Newton, Clarke, 
Willis, Hook, Hartley, Damvin, etc., it was taken up 
with enthusiasm in France by Condillac, Helvetius, La 
Mettrie, Diderot, Holbach, Lagrange (1715-1770), and 
the other writers who brought on the corruption in 
morals and the disorganization in society which ended 
in the French Revolution. While Locke referred all 
ideas to sensation and reflection, Condillac referred 
them all, and even the very faculties of the mind them- 
selves, to sensation, thus converting his Empiricism 
into Sensualism ; and Helvetius merely drew the prac- 
tical consequence of this theoretical doctrine, that sen- 
suous pleasure and pain are the only, and consequently 
the highest, stimulants or motives to action. La Met- 
trie, and the Encyclopedists and writers of the System 
of Nature, further elaborated these vile principles, and 
carried them out with shameless audacity and particu- 
larity to their legitimate consequences, the denial not 
only of all morality and religion, but of the very ex- 
istence of God, as well as of the spirituality and im- 
mortality of the soul. 

52. But Locke's philosophy, by the most opposite 



224 APPENDIX. 

tendencies, led not only to materialism, but to idealism, 
as well. Its empirical character, while it made it ma- 
terialistic in substance, made it subjective in principle. 
It contained no valid assertion of the existence of the 
external world. By denying to the mind authoritative 
principles of knowledge and necessary modes of con- 
ception, as well as a direct consciousness of external 
things, it virtually denied all real knowledge of outward 
objects, and the validity of all such general conceptions 
as those of Cause, Time, Space, etc. George Berke- 
ley, therefore (born at Kilkrin, Ireland, 1684), in order 
to avoid the materialistic and atheistic tendencies of his 
system, wholly rejected matter as an independent exist- 
ence, denying all objective reality to external objects — 
making them merely a succession of internal ideas pro- 
duced in us by the Will of the Creator* 

53. On the other hand, David Hume (born at Edin- 
burgh, 1711), gladly accepting the empirical nature and 
subjective tendencies of Locke's system, carried it out 
to its last consequences, in the denial of a substantive 
existence not only to matter, but to mind also, as 
well as all general abstract ideas, and particularly 
that of causation. Holding with Locke and Berkeley, 
that all our knowledge comes of experience, and 
that in experience nothing is known beyond the ideas 
themselves begotten in the mind, which cannot be 
copies, or in any way adequate representations, of 

* Berkeley stoutly asserts that his system accords with the vulgar belief; 
that the common mind in perception, thinks it perceives, and consequently 
believes in the existence of, only a combination of mental affections. But 
this is evidently the very reverse of the fact. The common mind, far 
more than that of the philosopher, adheres to an external reality as the 
cause of perception and the substratum of the qualities perceived. It can- 
not believe, whatever the philosopher may do, that pumpkins and melons 
are merely alternately developing and decaying ideas. 



APPENDIX. 



225 



externa] things, he denies all knowledge of substance, 
whether material or immaterial, or of causation, 
whether physical or spiritual. He admits, to be sure, 
a universal and unavoidable belief in these, but regards 
it as a blind instinct, or prejudice, generated by habit. 
He regards our idea of material substance as wholly 
generated by our various sensations of the so-called 
material qualities ; our idea of self, by many rapidly 
succeeding states of consciousness ; and our idea of 
causation, by association, or the habit of seeing one 
event follow another.* 

54. While the philosophy of Locke was being carried 
out to its consequences in England and France, the 
gifted and comprehensive genius of Leibnitz (born at 
Leipsic, 1646) was elaborating a highly original and 
ingenious system, opposed on the one hand, — by the 
assertion of native and necessary forms of thought, — 
to the empiricism of Locke, and on the other, to the 
lifeless and characterless pantheism of Spinoza. An 
accomplished scholar and versatile courtier, he spent a 
large part of his time in the varied duties of diplomacy, 
pursuing philosophy only at intervals, and published 
his views mostly in a fragmentary form, and frequently 
in the French language. His most considerable works 
are the Theodicee, the Monadology, and the Nouveaux 

* These, clearly, are but the just conclusions from a philosophy which 
holds that perception is wholly representative, and that " there is nothing 
in the intellect which is not first in the senses." They can be avoided 
only by vindicating a direct perception of external objects, and the exist- 
ence in the mind, as an original endowment from the Creator, of neces- 
sary forms of thought, according to which we mould our experience ; that 
the mind is so made, that it cannot perceive qualities without ascribing 
them to a something to which they belong ; nor change without ascribing 
it to a causative power. 



226 APPENDIX. 

Essais, the first chiefly theological, and the other two 
metaphysical. 

55. Like Spinoza, Leibnitz holds to the existence of 
but one general substance ; yet not to a dead, charac- 
terless, indeterminate substance, but to one full of ac- 
tivity and life, and distributed among an infinite num- 
ber of individual beings, specifically differing from each 
other in quality. At the same time, this substance is 
wholly ideal, being deprived of all real extension, and 
made up of mere metaphysical points instinct with life. 
Each of these points is a monad, or distinct individual, 
differing from every other in quality, while they all 
alike, and each by a spontaneous activity, represent or 
mirror in themselves the universe. In inorganic mat- 
ter, the representations are so numerous and confused 
that they do not come to a unity of consciousness ; in 
the vegetable world, the representative activity of the 
monads rises to a formative vital force ; while in ani- 
mals, the representative activity rises to an obscure 
consciousness, — and in man, to a distinct conscious- 
ness. 

56. All substance, then, is either distinctly or con- 
fusedly intelligent. The mind of man is distinctly in- 
telligent, his body only confusedly so. And yet by a 
pre-established harmony they are always in perfect cor- 
respondence with each other. The monads of the body 
always represent exactly the same things as those of 
the mind, the one mechanically, the other consciously, 
so that they are always in exact harmony ; like two 
time-pieces, moved by mechanism of the same pattern 
and from the same master-hand. But the body has no 
influence upon the mind, nor the mind upon the body, 
— they simply run together. Our knowledge, there- 



APPENDIX. 227 

fore, is not mere sense-knowledge. It does not come 
from without, but is produced from the mind itself. 
All ideas are innate, in the sense that they are always 
potentially in the mind. With much that is fanciful in 
this system, there is much that is substantial, and forms 
the basis of the most approved philosophy of the pres- 
ent day, especially the assertion of native forms of 
thought, potentially in the mind antecedent to experi- 
ence. 

57. It was on the general basis of the philosophy of 
Leibnitz that Christian Wolf (born at Breslau, 1679) 
reared his elaborate system of metaphysics. He did 
not, however, so much develop to their completeness the 
fragmentary but highly fruitful germs of thought thrown 
out by this great philosopher, as attempt from existing 
materials, to construct a comprehensive system of phi- 
losophy according to his general principles. Hence, 
while he retained the same idealistic view of things as 
Leibnitz, he kept his peculiar theory of nature quite in 
the background. After the fashion of the times, he en- 
deavored to embrace in his system all the great prob- 
lems of existence, both real and possible. His philoso- 
phy was both theoretical and practical, including logic, 
metaphysics, and ethics. Under metaphysics was em- 
braced Ontology, or the necessary conceptions under 
which things are known, and which were thought 
to apply not only to phenomena, but to things in 
themselves; Cosmology, or the conception of the world 
in its cause, beginning, composition, parts, etc. ; Ra- 
tional Psychology, or the conception of the soul as a 
simple, immaterial, unchanging substance and self- 
conscious personality ; and Speculative Theology, or 
the conception of a Supreme Being as the highest con- 



228 APPENDIX. 

dition of the possibility of all things. His system, 
comprehensive in plan, and drawn out with mathemati- 
cal precision, though mistaking formal for material 
truth, was highly esteemed in Germany, and remained 
the dominant philosophy till it was overthrown by 
Kant. 

58. We have now arrived at a point in the history 
of philosophy, where the stream of speculation, already 
many times interrupted and divided for a season, sepa- 
rates into two independent and diversely flowing cur- 
rents, which have continued their divergent courses to 
the present time. The philosophy of Locke, which 
had ended in materialism in France, had by a reaction 
ended in idealism, first in England and now in Ger- 
many. The whole movement having issued in an ex- 
aggerated and one-sided view of things, it was inevi- 
table that the philosophical faculty would seek some 
new point of departure and new principles of proced- 
ure, in order to reach a more satisfactory result. Such 
was actually the case, and that, too, at about the same 
time, in the two most widely removed centres of philo- 
sophical speculation, — Scotland and Germany. And 
not only so, but the impulse, in both cases, came from 
the same source — the scepticism of Hume. Reid and 
Kant were contemporaries, and according to the testi- 
mony of each left on record, were independently in- 
cited by the sceptical conclusions of Hume, to attempt 
the reconstruction of the fabric of knowledge on a new 
and safer foundation. And not only so, they both ap- 
pealed to the same general principles of certitude — the 
original instincts or conceptions of the soul, though 
with different degrees of distinctness and consistency, 
and, as we shall see, with almost opposite results. We 



APPENDIX. 229 

will first briefly trace the German and then the Scottish 
movement, which will complete the abstract proposed. 

59. The philosophy of Kant (born in 1724, at Ko- 
nigsberg, Prussia, where he was teacher and professor 
of philosophy in the university about forty years) ap- 
peared in the form of several distinct critiques, and is 
known as the Critical Philosophy. Instead of starting, 
as had been the fashion, with some single principle (as 
the cogito ergo sum of Descartes, or the monads of 
Leibnitz) and deducing his system from this, he starts 
with a criticism of the principles of knowledge, with 
an analysis of its conditions, in order to ascertain its 
possibility and limits, and mete out its domain. His 
philosophy, therefore, is partly destructive and partly 
constructive. His criticism is designed not only to clear 
away the dogmatic rubbish, but to disclose the genuine 
foundation-principles of knowledge. The result of his 
criticism is, that the strictly metaphysical sciences, On- 
tology, Rational Psychology, Speculative Theology, 
etc., are based upon mere assumptions, and hence, that 
philosophy is restricted to the sphere of the phenome- 
nal. The unconditioned cannot be known, but only 
the conditioned. Our notions of a psychical, a cosmo- 
logical, and a theological unity, which he calls the ideas 
of reason, are mere regulative principles for simplifying 
and systematizing our knowledge, not real constitutive 
principles of knowledge. 

60. But, at the same time, he holds, against Locke 
and Hume, to fundamental judgments or forms of 
conception, by which all our experience is connected 
and moulded. By an inner necessity of our thinking, 
we not only posit every thing in time and space, but 
necessarily think of things under the forms either of 



280 APPENDIX. 

unity, plurality, totality; reality, negation, limitation, 
substance and quality, cause and effect; possibility, ac- 
tuality, necessity. These are his famous Categories of 
Thought, or a priori Conceptions of the understanding. 
As necessary forms of thought they have a universal 
validity, but, being in themselves wholly empty, they 
become valid synthetical judgments only as they are 
filled by the matter of experience- — by actual intui- 
tions or perceptions. While, therefore, Kant connects 
together the fabric of knowledge by the cement of gen- 
eral principles, and thus saves it from falling asunder, 
he so dispossesses this fabric of all objective reality, as 
to render it little more than a fairy castle, a mere phan- 
tom of the mind. Thus, even Kant, with all the solid- 
ity and masculine vigor of his mind, remained true to 
the ideal character of his nation, and made knowledge 
virtually subjective. 

61. Not that he actually denies objective existence 
to things. Indeed, he verbally, at least, holds on to their 
objective existence, and all along supposes them the 
cause of sensations. He nowhere clearly draws the 
inevitable conclusion of his philosophy. After resolv- 
ing space and time into mere subjective conditions of 
thought, and denying any thing more than a moulding 
and regulative authority, respectively, to the concep- 
tions of the understanding and the ideas of reason, he 
makes a labored effort to save, at least, the existence 
of God, and the freedom and immortality of the soul, 
from the effects of his destructive criticism. This he 
does on the authority of the Practical Reason, or con- 
science, which, as undetermined from without, demands 
with authority a perfect moral law, a perfect virtue, and 
a perfect happiness ; involving, respectively, the neces- 



APPENDIX. 231 

sity for the freedom of the soul (will), the immortality 
of the soul, and the being of God. 

62. The appearance of Kant's Critique of Pure Rea- 
son (in 1781) at once created an epoch. It is unques- 
tionably the most important event which has occurred 
in the history of modern philosophy. Not so much 
from the amount of absolute truth which it contains, as 
from the almost new phase of speculation which it ex- 
hibits, and the surprising depth, thoroughness, and com- 
prehensiveness with which the discussion is conducted. 
It turns up a hitherto almost unknown and quite unex- 
plored side of things. Notwithstanding the extreme 
abstractness and rigor of its principles, and the appal- 
ling difficulties of its terminology, it swept every thing 
before it in Germany, and has greatly influenced the 
direction and tone of philosophical speculation, in all 
civilized countries, ever since. It was soon adopted by 
all the ablest teachers in the different German universi- 
ties, most of whom confined themselves to expounding 
its doctrines in a more popular form, and supplying 
its deficiencies, while only a few set themselves either 
decidedly to oppose, or positively to develop and carry 
out, the system. Of these, only Jacobi, Herbart, and 
Fichte need here be named. 

63. Frederic HexNry Jacobi (born at Dusseldorf 
in 1743, and during the latter part of his life President 
of the Academy of Sciences in Munich) was a man of 
fine genius and of rich and varied culture, with a strong 
dash of the poetic in his nature. It was inevitable that 
a mind so gifted, and sentimental withal, should be 
repelled by the cool destructiveness of a critical phi- 
losophy which annihilated all the most cherished ob 
jects of sentiment and faith, or at most, allowed them 



232 APPENDIX. 

only a doubtful existence, as postulates of :he practical 
reason. Accordingly, he grounds his philosophy on 
immediate instead of mediate knowledge ; on faith and 
feeling, instead of conception and discursive thinking, 
which were the basis of the Kantian philosophy. As 
he holds to an immediate apprehension of external ob- 
jects by sense, so he holds to an immediate apprehen- 
sion of supersensible objects by reason ; and that, in 
each case, these primary apprehensions manifest them- 
selves as irresistible beliefs or feelings that things are 
so and so. As conceiving is but conditioning (he rea- 
sons) we can never reach the unconditioned or infinite 
by discursive thinking, and all metaphysical philosophy 
is impossible, unless rational beliefs or feelings be taken 
as the deepest and most veritable cognitions of which 
we are capable.* 

64. John Frederick Herbart (born at Oldenberg, 
1776) was Kant's successor at Konigsberg, and is in- 
troduced here before Fichte, though chronologically 
subsequent to him, because he completes the develop- 
ment of the Kantian philosophy on one side, which was 
continued from-Fichte, on the other, by Schelling and 
Hegel. His system is a somewhat peculiar and un- 
fruitful carrying out of the realistic or empirical side 
of the philosophy of his predecessor. In his system 
knowledge is only of the given ; it cannot transcend 
experience as a basis. Even the conceptions of the 
understanding and the ideas of reason are based on 
realities, and it is the business of philosophy, not to 
deny their validity on account of the contradictions 
which they contain, as did Kant, but to remodel ihem 

* Iu like manner, Herbert Spencer regards belief as our deepest cogni- 
tion. See his Principles of Psychology , chap. ii. 



APPENDIX. 283 

so as to free them of contradictions. He attempts such 
a purification of conceptions through his doctrine of 
"reals," in which he assumes all substances to be 
composed of simple, unextended monads, differing from 
each other in quality, and affecting each other by action 
and reaction. Every substance, therefore, has just as 
many primitive and independent reals as it has quali- 
ties, and hence the contradiction between oneness in 
substance and multiplicity in phenomena disappears. 
So, too, a substance changes only by a shifting to arid 
fro of the reals, or by the interaction among them from 
a mutual effort at " self-preservation ; " which interac- 
tion, on the principle of u accidental views," may, on 
1he one side, be said really to change, and on the other, 
not to change, each other. In like manner, the antino- 
mies of motion may be solved on the principle of "in- 
tellectual spaces," according to which reals may be said 
on the one hand to be together, and on the other, to be 
separated. And thus of other ontological questions. 
The soul, however, is a simple real, and its perceptions 
but responses or re-actions against the encroachments of 
other objects. Herbarfs doctrine of reals, it will be per- 
ceived, is quite similar in its general features to the 
" monad " theory of Leibnitz. 

65. John Gottlieb Fichte (born at Rammenau, 
1762), a man of extraordinary independence and acute- 
ness of mind, was appointed professor of philosophy at 
Jena in 1793, afterwards (in 1805) at Erlangen, and 
finally, dean and rector of the new university in Berlin, 
where he died in 1814, in the fifty-second year of his 
age. His starting-point was the philosophy of Kant, 
which he regarded as virtually a system of idealism, 
and stoutly contended that he was right in interpreting 



234 APPENDIX. 

it as intentionally such, until publicly contradicted by 
Kant himself. There can be no doubt, therefore, that 
he was wrong as to the intention of Kant to construct 
a system of idealism ; but that it is virtually so, must 
be quite as evident to every careful reader of his Cri- 
tique. At any rate, such was it understood to be by 
Fichte and such has it proved to be in its effects. 

66. Kant having made perception a synthesis of 
subject and object, the mind contributing one part and 
the external object another, towards the general result, 
Fitchte advanced a step further, and declared percep- 
tion and thought in general to be wholly an act of the 
mind, without the concurrence or co-operation of any 
thing external. As all thought is necessarily subjective, 
he found no warrant for assuming the existence of any 
thing out of the mind ; nor any necessity for it, indeed, 
since all the phases of experience and thought might 
be easily accounted for on ideal principles. The mind 
is active in its nature, and in acting, it necessarily as- 
sumes something acted upon, or co-operating with it in 
the act — every mental act involves at the same time a 
self and a not self a subject and an object. In percep- 
tion, one necessarily affirms a self and a not-self as 
relatives in thought, but nothing beyond this. Besides, 
the different categories of thought are only the different 
relations which the subject and object may be conceived 
as holding to each other. External objects, then, are 
only objectified thoughts, or rather, that self-imposed 
limitation of thought by which alone we become con- 
scious, or have any thoughts at all. Thus we make 
the external world by our internal activity. Self and 
its representations constitute the universe. Even God 
is nothing more than the abstract Moral Order of 
things. 



APPENDIX. 235 

67. Such is a hint of the character of the subjective 
or egoistic idealism of Fichte, of which Sir W. Hamil- 
ton says,* that it is " developed with the most admirable 
rigor of demonstration," and is M the purest, simplest, 
and most consistent which the history of philosophy 
presents." And yet it ends virtually in nihilism. " The 
sum total," says Fichte (quoted by Hamilton), in sum- 
ming up the result of his theoretical philosophy, " is 
this: There is absolutely nothing permanent either 
without me or within me, but only an unceasing 
change. I know absolutely nothing of any existence, 
not even of my own. I myself know nothing, and am 
nothing. Images there are : they constitute all that 
apparently exists, and what they know of themselves, 
i* after the manner of images, — images that pass and 
vanish without there being aught to witness their tran- 
sition ; that consist in fact of the images of images, 
without significance and without an aim. I myself 
am one of these images ; nay, I am not even thus 
much, but only a confused image of images. All re- 
ality is converted into a marvellous dream, without a 
life to dream of, and without a mind to dream ; into a 
dream made up only of a dream of itself. Perception 
is a dream ; thought — the source of all the existence 
and all the reality which I imagine to myself of my ex- 
istence, of my power, of my destination — is the dream 
of that dream." 

68. Frederick William Joseph Schelling (born 
at Leonberg, 1775), beginning his career as a speculative 
philosopher while yet at the university (at Tiibingen), 
became, on leaving the university, a student and 
teacher of Philosophy at Jena, in conjunction with 

* Wight's Hamilton, p. 24, note. 



236 APPENDIX. 

Fichte, and afterwards, professor of philosophy, first at 
Wiirtsburg (in 1803) and then at Munich. In his phi- 
losophizing he started with Fichte, but soon passed far 
beyond him in the wild pursuit of the absolute. He 
accepts, with Fichte, the identity of subject and object, 
but unlike him, makes them perfectly coordinate and 
equally real. The object is no longer produced from 
the finite subject, but both alike are produced out of the 
infinite subject — the absolute. Human souls are but 
separate centres of consciousness in the absolute, in 
universal Nature ; and the experience of life, in all of 
which subject and object figure as the opposite poles, 
is but the outworking of the Infinite. Ordinary ex- 
perience or consciousness is possible only through the 
contrast of subject and object ; but in the higher, and in- 
deed, impersonal clairvoyance of Reason or the Intellec- 
tual Intuition, the contrast disappears, as polarity does 
at the indifference-point of the magnet, and subject and 
object, knowledge and being, become absolutely one. 
Schelling, in short, was a pantheist, with a peculiar 
theory of knowing the absolute. Further to illustrate 
the views of a philosopher, so subtle and occupying so 
important a position in the history of recent specula- 
tions in Germany and other countries, I transfer to my 
pages a few luminous paragraphs, descriptive of Spel- 
ling's system, from Sir W. Hamilton's celebrated re- 
view of Cousin. 

69. This admirable critic thus sets forth and can- 
vasses his chief positions : " While the lower sciences 
are of the relative and conditioned, Philosophy, as the 
science of sciences, must be of the absolute, — the un- 
conditioned. But how, it is objected, can the absolute 
be known ? The absolute, as unconditioned, identical, 



APPENDIX. 237 

and one, cannot be cognized under conditions, by dif- 
ference and plurality. It cannot, therefore, be known 
if the subject of knowledge be distinguished from the 
object of knowledge ; in a knowledge of the absolute, 
existence and knowledge must be identical; the abso- 
lute can only be known, if adequately known, and it 
can only be adequately known by the absolute itself. 
But is this possible ? We are wholly ignorant of exist- 
ence in itself: the mind knows nothing, except in 
parts, by quality, and difference, and relation ; con- 
sciousness supposes the subject contradistinguished 
from the object of thought; the abstraction of this con- 
trast is the negation of consciousness ; and the nega- 
tion of consciousness is the annihilation of thought it- 
self. The alternative is therefore unavoidable; either 
finding the absolute, we lose ourselves, or retaining self 
and individual consciousness, we do not reach the ab- 
solute. 

70. " All this Schelling frankly admits. But he con- 
tends that there is a capacity of knowledge above con- 
sciousness, and higher than the understanding, and that 
this knowledge is competent to human reason, as iden- 
tical with the Absolute itself. In this act of knowledge, 
which, after Fichte, he calls the Intellectual Intuition, 
there exists no distinction of subject and object, — no 
contrast of knowledge and existence ; all difference is 
lost in absolute indifference, — all plurality in absolute 
unity. The Intuition itself — Reason — and the Ab- 
solute are identified. The absolute exists only as 
known by reason, and reason knows only as being 
itself absolute. 

71. '• It would be idle to enter into an articulate refu- 
tation of a theory, which founds philosophy on the 



238 APPENDIX. 

annihilation of consciousness, and the identification of 
the unconscious philosopher with God. The intuition 
of the absolute is manifestly the work of an arbitrary- 
abstraction, and of a self-delusive imagination. To 
reach the point of indifference, — by abstraction we an 
nihilate the object, and by abstraction we annihilate 
the subject, of consciousness. But what remains ? 
Nothing. i Nil constitutes nobis? We then hypostatize 
the zero: we baptize it with the name of Absolute; and 
conceit ourselves that we contemplate absolute exist- 
ence, when we only speculate absolute privation. 

72. " To Schelling it has been impossible, without 
gratuitous and even contradictory assumptions, to ex- 
plain the deduction of the finite from the infinite. By 
no salto mortali has he been able to clear the magic 
circle in which he had enclosed himself. Unable to 
connect the unconditioned and the conditioned by any 
natural correlation, he has variously attempted to ac- 
count for the phenomenon of the universe, either by 
imposing a necessity of self-manifestation on the abso- 
lute, i.e., by conditioning the unconditioned ; or by 
postulating a fall of the finite from the infinite ; i.e., by 
begging the very fact which his hypothesis professed 
its exclusive ability to explain." 

73. And still further, briefly to indicate at this point, 
in the words of the same author, the relation of the 
system of Schelling' s great French disciple, Victor 
Cousin, to that of his master: " Cousin and Schelling 
agree, that as philosophy is the science of the uncon- 
ditioned, the unconditioned must be within the com- 
pass of science. They agree, that the unconditioned 
is known and immediately known ; and they agree that 
intelligence, as competent to the unconditioned, is im- 



APPENDIX. 239 

personal, infinite, divine. But while they coincide in 
the fact of the absolute, as known, they are diametri- 
cally opposed as to the mode in which they attempt to 
realize this knowledge. Cousin declares the condition 
of all knowledge to be plurality and difference ; and 
Schelling, that the condition, under which alone the 
knowledge of the absolute becomes possible, is indiffer- 
ence and unity. The one thus denies a notion of the 
absolute to consciousness ; whilst the other affirms that 
consciousness is concerned in every act of intelligence." 
74. George William Frederic Hegel (born at 
Stuttgart, 1770), an early friend and college chum of 
Schelling, at Tubingen, was subsequently professor of 
philosophy at Jena, at Heidelberg, and at Berlin, where 
he died in 1831. Starting from the stand-point of 
Schelling, he reduced his system to order, and carried 
it out to its last logical consequences. Schelling, while 
assuming the identity of subject and object at the point 
of indifference, had yet assumed the reality of both 
poles. Hegel, on the contrary, abolishes alike the re- 
ality of both poles, and admits only the reality of their 
relation. The equipoise of subject and object thus be- 
comes a mere abstract relation of the two. The Indif- 
ference Philosophy becomes the Absolute Philosophy, 
and the Intellectual Intuition only Logical Conception. 
For, not only are subject and object absolutely one, but 
being and non-being, light and darkness, and all other 
contraries and contradictories. Indeed, the fundamental 
principle of his system is, the identity of contraries. All 
possibility of contradiction is thus avoided, and the 
way opened for the wildest revelry of thought. Philoso- 
phy becomes the possible in thought, with the principle 
of contradiction eliminated. Theoretically, his system 



APPENDIX. 



is the evolution of such a system of thought, while 
practically, it is the application of it to nature, life, 
opinion, history, etc., i.e., the explanation of the appar- 
ent world, and course of events, according to such ab- 
stract and fantastic forms of thought. In such a sys- 
tem, nature, man, and even God, can be only an 
evolution of the absolute, and in the last analysis, only 
a process of thought, a nothing, in short. Here we have 
Absolute Idealism, following upon the Objective Ideal- 
ism of Schelling, as that had followed upon the Sub- 
jective Idealism of Fichte. 

75. With Hegel the German movement closes. He 
seems to have pushed Idealism to its utmost limits, 
rendering any further development impossible; at all 
events, there has been no further development since his 
time. And if, now, having traced this movement to 
its close, till it has " vanished in thin air," we return 
again to Hume, to trace in few words the Scottish line 
of speculation, we shall find a movement of a very dif- 
ferent order, and of a much more sober and hopeful 
character. The Scotch school of philosophy was 
founded by Thomas Reid (born at Strachan, 1710, and 
successively professor of philosophy at Aberdeen and at 
Glasgow), and has embraced a succession of able men 
but of these only two besides the founder are of suf- 
ficient importance to deserve particular mention in a 
mere abstract of the history of philosophy — Dugald 
Stewart and Sir W. Hamilton (both professors of phi- 
losophy at Edinburg). While Reid originated the sys- 
tem, Stewart illustrated and rendered it attractive, and 
Hamilton perfected it. Reid and Stewart are gener- 
ally at one in doctrine, it is only in Hamilton that we 
find any considerable advance upon the founder. 



APPENDIX. 241 

76. The general principles of the school are thus ad- 
mirably stated by Hamilton in his review of Cousin: 
" In Scotland, a philosophy had sprung up, which, 
though professing, equally with the doctrine of Condil- 
lac, to build only on experience, did not, like that doc- 
trine, limit experience to the relations of sense and its 
objects. "Without vindicating to man more than a 
relative knowledge of existence, and restricting the sci- 
ence of mind to an observation of the fact of conscious- 
ness, it, however, analyzed that fact into a greater 
number of more important elements than had been 
recognized in the school of Condillac. It showed that 
phenomena were revealed in thought which could not 
be resolved into any modifications of sense, external or 
internal. It proved that intelligence supposed princi- 
ples, which, as the conditions of its activity, cannot be 
the results of its operations ; that the mind contained 
knowledges, which, as primitive, universal, necessary, 
are not to be explained as generalizations from the con- 
tingent and individual, about which alone all experience 
is conversant. The phenomena of mind were thus dis- 
tinguished from the phenomena of matter ; and if the 
impossibility of materialism was not demonstrated, 
there was at least demonstrated the impossibility of its 
proof." 

77. These primary principles of knowledge or forms 
of thought native to the human mind, Reid called 
" principles of common sense," and hence the Scotch 
school of philosophy has usually been denominated the 
School of Common Sense. As regards perception, or 
the nature of our knowledge of external obj-ects, which 
is the grand distinguishing feature of all systems of 
philosophy, the Scotch metaphysicians are Natural 



242 APPENDIX. 

Realists. They hold to an immediate knowledge of 
external objects, without the intervention of any medi- 
ating mental representation or idea. This doctrine was 
intentionally, though not in all respects consistently, 
held by Reid and Stewart, and has been fully and con- 
sistently carried out by Hamilton. 

78. According to Hamilton, the mind, present in all 
parts of the organism, or at least at its central termina- 
tions, is directly conscious of the affections of that or- 
ganism, through corresponding affections of its own, 
and, in the mutual outness of these affections, appre- 
hends the body as something extended. At the same 
time, through our power of locomotion, and the resist- 
ance to this locomotion which we meet with in our ex- 
perience, we become conscious of the existence of 
objects exterior to our bodies, which also become known 
as extended objects, by the impressions which they 
make on our organism, already known as extended. 

79. But as the principles of the Scotch philosophy 
are well known in this country, and form the general 
basis of most of our treatises, nothing farther need be 
said on the history of this school. And having thus com- 
pleted the abstract of philosophy which I intended ; 
having traced in outline — distinct, I hope, though mea- 
gre — the wayward course of speculation from the ear- 
liest times to our own, I leave the subject, trusting that 
the bare sketch here presented, will prove sufficient to 
stimulate the curiosity of the student to pursue in detai] 
a department of history so interesting and fruitful. 



EXPLANATORY NOTES 



AND 



QUESTIONS ON THE TEXT.* 



EXPLANATORY NOTES. 

INTRODUCTION. 

1. In the expressions " I think," and " I am present," the / or 
self is evidently used in different senses, including in one case onlv 
the mind, and in the other the whole person. So when I say " I 
raise my arm," while I distinguish self from the arm, I at the same 
time make the arm mine, or a part of self. — For the meaning of 
the word affection here, see p. 20, note. 

2. The term person, properly includes the body ; as to be " pres- 
ent in person " is to be present bodily. But when we inquire what 
one's personality consists in, as in the question about " personal 
identity," we find that it embraces the body, at most, only as a type 
or form ; since in substance the body is continually changing, and 
only the interior conscious self remains absolutely the same. — In 
saying that " the mind first becomes conscious of itself through the 

* These notes and questions are allowed to remain, although a part of them 
have become inapplicable by the changes in the text. 

243 



244 EXPLANATORY NOTES. 

various affections which the body suffers," the mind is spoken of 
merely in its present state as connected with the body, without any 
reference to its antecedent state. 

3. Microcosm and macrocosm mean respectively " little world " 
and " great world." As all the primitive materials of knowledge 
must come in through the senses, so can they be retained and used 
onl; within ; hence, when we speak of roaming in thought through 
the universe, we*simply mean that we represent to ourselves in our 
minds various objects throughout the universe. 

4. Extension and resistance are general properties of matter, 
containing various subordinate properties under them. For which, 
see p. 57, 4 and 6. 

5. Phenomena means " appearances," " manifestations," and is 
used to designate indifferently any state, change, modification, f>r 
quality, whether of mind or matter. 

6. By the participating of the mind in an affection, is meant its 
sharing in it, its being itself affected, modified, or changed, together 
with the organ ; thus making every sensation at the same time an 
organic and a mental change. 



CHAPTER I. 

SECTION I. 

2. The mind, of course, can receive knowledge only according to 
its nature or powers, just as the mirror receives images only 
according to its peculiar nature, and thus modifies them as it re- 
ceives them. Our knowledge of things, then, is determined partly 
by the forms or moulds which our minds present for its reception. 
These primitive determinations of thought which decide its possi- 
bility and form, ab initio, are variously denominated " native or 
first principles of knowledge," "primary facts and truths cf con- 



EXPLANA10RY NOTES. 245 

sciousness," " first principles of reasoning," etc. See Chap. II. 
Sees. 2 and 3, and Chap. VIII. Sec. 3. 

6. A condition is always a limitation of that to which it is 
applied, since it always specifies some relation, quality, or circum- 
stance concerning it. The conditional, therefore, is the limited, 
the finite, while the unconditional is the infinite, the absolute, i. e., 
that of which no condition or limitation can be named or conceived. 
Now, as we can know only that which can be marked off, or pre- 
sented under some particular form or relation to the mind, we can- 
not know the unconditional ; as, for instance, the absolute nature 
of matter, of mind, or of God, — we can know these only under 
certain definite relations which they bear to us. Hence, things in 
themselves, or the essence of things, or the ideas of things, as 
expressed by Plato, cannot be known by us. See Hamilton's arti- 
cle on the Unconditioned, Wight's Hamilton, p. 441. 

SECTION II. 

8. In such expressions as " I use my mind," what can the / indi- 
cate but the will? that which controls the mind — a self deeper 
than the mind as a whole ? If our wills are not free, then are we 
not moral agents ; and if not moral agents, what evidence have we 
that God is a moral governor ? Indeed, if our thoughts and wills 
are determined, as in physical causation, why assume a spiritual 
nature at all for our minds ? Why not regard what we call intelli- 
gence as the result of organization ? And if there be no spirit in 
man, why any in nature ? Nullus in microcosmo spiritns, nullus 
in macrocosmo Beits. See Bowen's Hamilton, pp. 17-19. 

CHAPTER II. 

SECTION I. 

3. The automatic theory supposes a physical connection between 
the different parts of a process to become established by repetition; 



246 EXPLANATORY NOTES. 

so that, for instance, the movement of one finger, in playing a 
tune, awakens such a local irritability as to cause the movement of 
the finger which has usually followed it in performing the process, 
and so on. But if the mind is not really superintending and 
directing the process, why should it always be suspended when the 
attention is suddenly arrested by any thing which wholly engrosses 
the mind for the moment ? 



SECTION II. 

2. We announce our consciousness of a self and a not-self in 
our expression of every perception ; we always say, I perceive this 
or that. We have no recollection, of course, of our first percep- 
tions. Hence we do not know from actual experience how they 
seemed to us. But, from the nature of the case, and from the ex- 
perience of persons who have first acquired the use of some of 
their senses in mature life, it seems probable that first perceptions, 
in the case of most of the senses, must appear as mere affections 
of the organ. 

3. There must be some object before the mind in all thought; 
and hence, in perception, if the object itself is not perceived, there 
must be some representative image of it before the mind; which is 
the view taken of perception by some philosophers. 

5. By the "figment of the imagination " is meant, the image or 
imaginary object conjured up by the mind, and held before it as its 
object. 

SECTION III. 

I. 3. " Outness " is a term first used, I believe, by Berkeley, to 
express the fact that both our bodily sensations and external ob- 
jects all appear to have different localities, or reveal themselves, as 
perceived by us, as out of each other. If they all appeared to us 
as occupying the same locality, we could never have any notion of 
space. 



EXPLANATORY NOTES. 247 

i. o. As both mental and material qualities must have a sub- 
stratum to which they belong, " substance " may be either material 
or immaterial. 

L 7. "Empirical ideas" or knowledge stands opposed to a priori 
knowledge. Ideas of the first class are simply generalizations 
from experience, while those of the latter class are original, native, 
or necessary notions, — those primitive convictions of the mind 
already so often referred to. 

I. 9. The idea that physical antecedents are only secondary 
causes, and that all real causal power is in God, is objected to 
chiefly on the ground that it supposes such an incessant and multi- 
farious exercise of power by God as to render it highly improbable. 
But if God made the world, is there any thing improbable in the 
idea that he operates it by his power ? Is there any thing more 
inconceivable in the latter than in the former ? 

II. 3. In admitting that we are not continuously conscious, it is 
not denied that there is a sort of sub-consciousness which is con- 
tinuous. Sleep is but a dormant state of the senses, sometimes 
shallower and sometimes deeper, but never, probably, wholly sus- 
pending an undercurrent of thought. But this does not come to 
the surface, and is not properly consciousness. 

III. 2. (3.) A " deliverance of consciousness," is simply what is 
reported or given in consciousness, or what is revealed there, i. e., 
some fact or truth of consciousness. 



CHAPTER III. 

SECTION I. 

2. "Natural dualism," called dualism because it holds to the 
consciousness of two elements in perception, which is implied in 
the word. 



248 



EXPLANATORY NOTES. 



3.' " Actually perceived," i.e., a real knowledge of their exter- 
nality is gained through their resistance. See Sect. III. 2. The doc- 
trine of occasional causes, first taught by Descartes (see p. 217), 
has affected, more or less, nearly all systems of philosophy since. 
According to this doctrine, the impressions made upon the senses 
by external objects are merely the occasions of awakening such 
ideas in our minds as God wills ; impressions of an entirely different 
character would answer just as well, if God should so will. The 
impression or sensation, then, is of no consequence in itself, except 
as a sign, and does not, as in the view presented in the text, really 
furnish the conditions or elements of the perception itself. See 
note, Sec. III. 9. 

5. " Phenomenal modifications," i. e., mere appearances, transi- 
tory states. In man, the two phenomena of thought and exten- 
sion, or of mind and matter, confront each other. In him thought 
apprehends or perceives extension, or mind, matter. 

7. " Or else it regards them (i. e., our ideas of external objects) 
as merely self-limiting forms of the consciousness itself." This is 
Fichte's view, for which see Appendix, No. 66. 

8. Consciousness, being a direct and simple knowledge, is cer- 
tainly much less liable to be at fault than logic or reasoning, which 
consists of many steps. We may, indeed, be mistaken as to what 
we are really conscious of, but genuine consciousness can never be 
at fault. 

10. " Sceptical . . . dogmatic," i. e., negative and positive, by way 
of doubt and by positive teaching. Scepticism simply criticizes 
or doubts the truth or validity of a system, rather than teaches any 
of its own. This was the method of Hume. 



EXPLANATORY NOTES. 249 



SECTION II. 

6. If we press the hand against any hard substance, we are rc- 
sisted outwardly, or objectively, while the organ is pressed in- 
wardly, or subjectively. " Considered physically/' i. e., as they 
stand in nature. All that is here meant is, that the various quali- 
ties embraced under the general notion of resistance, are to be 
divided into three classes, according to the sources whence the 
resistance springs. 

(1.) As every body must have extension, this distinguishes body 
from not-body ; but bodies differ from each other in hardness, 
weight, color, odor, etc. 

(2.) As extension belongs necessarily to all bodies, and does not 
arise from the relation of one body to another, it may be said to 
arise from the relations of body to itself. But as every body resists 
or repels (more or less) every other body which is moved against it, 
resistance may be said to arise from the relation of one body to 
another ; while color, heat, flavor, savor, and the like, arise from 
the relation of bodies to our sentient organism. 

(3.) Matter could not exist without extension ; separate objects 
could not exist if there was no resistance among them (they would 
all blend into one) ; and we could hold no communion with nature 
without the qualities of color, heat, flavor, savor, etc. 

(4.) As the real self is a spirit, any thing which is extended is a 
not-self; in resistance, we are conscious of being ourselves resisted 
by something foreign to self; while we recognize the sensations 
of heat, savor, etc., as affections of our sentient organism, and 
infer their cause in certain external objects. 

(5.) Extension is perceived simply as a quality of bodies ; but 
heat, odor, etc., are apprehended as affections of our sentient 
organism ; while resistance without becomes pressure within. 



250 EXPLANATORY NOTES. 

(7.) That is to say, the three classes of qualities affect our organ* 
ism under the three different points of view here named. 

(8.) See the illustrations to No. (5.) 

(9.) Mathematics has to do with extension, number, etc. ; and 
force (the subject of mechanics) arises from the various forms of 
resistance ; while the secondary qualities are recognized as affec- 
tions of our physical system, or sentient organism. 

(10.) Perception is, strictly and properly, merely the apprehen- 
sion of extension in bodies ; but heat, flavor, etc., are recognized 
as mere sensations in our organism ; while resistance is objectively 
(outwardly) a perception, and subjectively a sensation. 

(11.) The perception of extension is, in the first instance, merely 
the apprehension of our organism as having parts out of parts ; 
and although this is effected only through sensations in that organ- 
ism, still the sensations are entirely subordinate to the perception, 
and, indeed, if at all obtrusive, interfere with the perception. On 
the contrary, the mind merely receives or suffers the sensations of 
heat, flavor, etc. ; while it both apprehends resistance and suffers 
its sensation. 

(12.) See the illustrations to No. (11.) 

(13.) All our senses being susceptible of sensations, and these 
sensations revealing themselves as out of each other, they all, of 
course, furnish the conditions for apprehending extension. 

(14.) It is impossible for us to conceive of any body without ex- 
tension ; but resistance, on the contrary, though a common attri- 
bute of matter, is not conceived as necessary to it, but as only 
contingent ; while heat, sound, flavor, etc., are not only contingent 
or accidental qualities, but are peculiar, as being specifically adapted 



EXPLANATORY NOTES. 251 

for determining our nervous system to the peculiar sensations of 
"which we are susceptible. 

(15.) See the illustrations to No. (11.) 



SECTION III. 

2. M We can but conclude, therefore, that the resisting object is 
distinct from and external to us." Professor Porter, however, re- 
gards the simple sensations of touch as a sufficient ground for in- 
ferring the existence of objects external to our organism: since, in 
touching other objects, one simply feels ; while in touching himself 
he not only feels, but is felt. 

5. " An object and a medium." Formerly the light, the agita- 
tion of the air, and the effluvia, were regarded as merely the media 
through which objects communicated with the eye, the ear, or the 
nose, and not as the very things which alone are perceived. Our 
knowledge of the object which emits the light, sound, or effluvia, 
is reached only through experience. 

9. If sensations are merely mental affections, then in the experi- 
ence of sensations, we apprehend nothing exterior to the mind 
(which according to the hypothesis is alone affected) ; whereas 
if sensations are equally mental and organic affections, then we 
actually experience sensations out of each other in an extended 
organism, which is a veritable perception. 

10. " Perhaps." I am aware that this is a very unphilosophical 
word. If we consider the sensation suffered by the mind in any 
particular affection of a nerve, or nervous filament, as always of a 
given character, then the sensation would be the same whether 
experienced at the centre or at the extremity. We should have a 
combination of sensations of a particular character, all out of each 
other, which very naturally, it may be, would be carried out to the 
extremities of the nerves, where we know the organic affection 
generally originates, even though really apprehended at the centre. 
See Wight's Hamilton, p. 385, note. 



252 EXPLANATORY NOTES. 



SECTION IV. 

I. 3. Our sensations, in the exercise of all the senses, reveal 
themselves as out of each other, and hence all of them furnish the 
conditions of apprehending our organism as extended; but the 
sense of touch furnishes these conditions the most " obtrusively," 
since the whole body serves as the organ of touch, while the organs 
of the other senses are quite limited in extent. 

IV. 3. " That the organ is thus affected we know from observation." 
Take the eye of an ox, or any other animal soon after it is killed, 
and peel off the integuments on the back side, and hold it up before 
any object, and you will see the image upon the retina. 

5, (2.) By " the organism affected," is here meant, of course, 
the retina of the eye, which presents a considerable expanse, that 
is always affected or modified by the image in every act of vision. 

8. "Following out the ascertained lines of vision," etc. The 
image being all that is recognized at first, would then be the sole 
object contemplated. As we gradually learn by experience that 
this represents an object, we learn also (as described in No. 9) that 
the different points in that object are seen in straight lines at right 
angles to the eye. Now if we suppose the image to be moved out 
(as it would be in our experience) on these lines (which cross each 
other at the pupil) to the object, every point in the object will cor- 
respond to its projected image upon the retina. One has but to 
draw a diagram, with the rays from an object crossing each other 
at the pupil and projecting themselves upon the retina, to see this. 



CHAPTER IV. 

SECTION IV. 

7. " kn irrespective object," i. e., an object having no respect or 
relation to any thing else. It is rather viewed as a part of the 



EXPLANATORY NOTES. 253 

whole where it has been once perceived, and as such tends to revive 
the remembrance of the other parts. 

21. "Mental movement," i. e., progress, through associations 
among our ideas. One thought follows from, or is suggested by, 
another. As we have already seen, thoughts related by contiguity 
of time or place, by likeness, or by contrast, tend to suggest each 
other. And it is through these relations among our thoughts that 
Aristotle here represents us as excogitating the object to be re- 
membered. 

CHAPTER V. 

SECTION II. 

7. " More perfect than ever actually occurs in any one object in 
nature." This must be so if there is any distinction between the 
ideal and the real. No single face or form can be found with all 
its features or lines perfect. So there is no single flower but has 
defects in some of its leaves or petals. And the same is true of 
other things. But in the ideal face, flower, or other object, the 
imagination supplies these defects, and rounds out the whole. 

8. What is here called " conception " is such, considered as 
something thought of, or construed to the mind ; but as represented 
in a concrete image, it is an act of the imagination. See Wights 
Hamilton, p. 454. 

CHAPTER VI. 
SECTION I. 

7. " Inconceivability is not regarded by us as equivalent to im- 
possibility" Wlkat is inconceivable seems impossible for us, in- 
deed, but not necessarily so for Almighty Power or Wisdom. We 
cannot conceive how matter can be either created or destroyed, and 
vet we do not regard it as impossible to God. 



254 EXPLANATORY NOTES. 



SECTION IV. 

II. 2. The real difference between the nominalist, the concep- 
tualise and the realist, is, that the nominalist wholly rejects con- 
cepts proper, as different from percepts ; while the conceptualist 
holds to concepts as formed by the abstraction of such common 
qualities of related objects as actually occur to us in our experi- 
ence ; and the realist to concepts which embrace only the essential 
qualities of objects, such as those upon which the classification of 
objects turns. With the nominalist, there is nothing general but 
class-names, directly applicable to every individual of the class 
without the intervention of a mental concept ; with the conceptual- 
ist, the class-word is expressly designed to designate the mental 
concept, but, at the same time, is applicable to individual things 
through the intervention of the imagination ; while, by the realist, 
the concept, or general notion, is regarded as expressing the very 
essence of things, as determining their classification, and, by the 
extreme realist, as determining their existence. 



CHAPTER VII. 

SECTION II. 
9. For Hamilton's scheme of propositions, see his Logic, p. 529 

CHAPTER VIII. 

SECTION II. 

7. The " ontological argument " for the existence of God is this : 
That, as we have in our minds the idea of an infinite and perfect 
being, this necessarily implies the existence of such a being as its 
cause, since the finite and imperfect things around us are not 
adequate to produce such an idea. The H cosmological argument " 
infers the existence of God from the dependent and changeful 



QUESTIONS ON THE TEXT. 255 

nature of things around us, which implies an independent and 
unchangeable being. The succession of causes and effects which 
we witness in nature must originate in a cause which is not at the 
same time an effect ; otherwise the principle of causation is made 
void, and there is merely an infinite series of effects. 



n. 

QUESTIONS ON THE TEXT. 

INTRODUCTION. 

1. When does self include the mind only ? When the body, and 
why ? What is the body to the mind, and how animated ? Of 
what affections are we conscious, and how do we become so ? 

2. In what sense is the body animated by the spirit ? What is 
the body always to be distinguished from ? How is the mind first 
awakened to consciousness ? 

3. How is the body the microcosm of the human spirit as the 
universe is the macrocosm of the Divine Spirit ? When the mind 
is spoken of as roaming through Nature, what is really meant? By 
what are mind and matter distinguished ? 

4. How is the body known to us ? What is it composed of? Is 
it possible to conceive that the body thinks ? Why is the mind 
said to be immaterial ? By what energies does the mind manifest 
itself? 

5. What are some of the lower elements of life in man ? Can 
they be explained by mechanical or chemical laws ? What do the 
conscious phenomena of life evidently depend upon ? What doe* 
the disappearance of these phenomena at death prove ? 



256 QUESTIONS ON THE TEXT, 

6. In what two ways may the mind become conscious of the affeo 
tions of the body, and in which of them does it probably do so ? 
What is the effect of obtaining knowledge through material organs, 
and what is it evidence of? How is it with pure intelligences ? 

7. What antithesis and what mystery do we meet with at the 
outset ? What do the various psychological systems turn upon ? 



CHAPTER I. 
SECTION I. 

1. What is the general conscious principle in man called? What 
is its most important function ? Is intelligence a single process ? 
Is it designated as a whole ? How do the different designations 
represent it ? 

2. What of the term intellect as a designation of the knowing 
principle ? How is the intellect regarded by some philosophers ? 
In this sense what relation does it bear to the knowing powers ? 
What are treatises on the cognitive powers in general called ? 

3. What does the term understanding sometimes denote ? How 
is it used by Locke ? What does Hamilton say of it ? How does 
the term represent the mind ? 

4. What does reason sometimes, and what does it properly de- 
note ? How is it opposed to the receptivity of sense ? How to 
the blindness and excitability of feeling ? Why is proof called 
reasoning ? 

5. What distinction does Milton make in reason ? What of the 
reason intuitive ? Can the reason give reasons for every thing F 
What can it do ? 



QUESTIONS ON THE TEXT. 257 

6. What of reason transcendental ? What distinction does 
Kant make between the reason and the understanding ? Of what 
does each take cognizance ? Why may this meaning of reason be 
disregarded ? 

7. What might be said of consciousness ? How does it not, 
and how does it denote knowledge ? 

8. Why is intelligence distributed among several faculties ? 
What is perception ? Give an account of the term, and other 
terms explained in the note. What self-consciousness? What 
memory? What imagination ? What conception? What judg- 
ment ? What reasoning ? 



section n. 

1. Besides knowing, what do we do ? What are some of the 
feelings of which we are susceptible ? What are some of the pro- 
cesses connected with willing? What relation do those phenomena 
bear to knowledge ? 

2. What feelings are called organic ? What are some of them ? 
What intellectual or moral feelings ? WTiat are these properly 
denominated ? What are some of them ? 

3. What constitutes physical pleasure and pain ? What intel- 
lectual ? What good and what evil ? 

4. W r hen are the feelings called affections? When emotions? 
When passions ? When propensities or desires and aversions ? 
What sort of affections are feelings really ? What relation do they 
bear to knowledge ? Give the illustrations. 

5. What are the moral feelings consequent upon ? What does 
Butler sa} of the moral faculty? What are the moral sentiments 



258 QUESTIONS ON THE TEXT. 

forms of, and how awakened ? What are the pleasures a ad disgusts 
of taste, and what consequent upon ? Can there be any aesthetic 
feelings without a previous aesthetic perception ? 

6. What is the third phase of the mind revealed in conscious- 
ness ? What is said of deliberation ? What of choosing and 
resolving ? To what does the question of the independent power 
of the will belong ? What is said of it in passing ? What is said 
of the question practically ? 

7. What is said of the question how the will acts through the 
organism ? To what science do this, and the kindred question of 
how the external objects affect the mind through the body, belong ? 
What hypotheses have been made on these questions by physical 
philosophers ? 

8. Which of the three great classes of mental phenomena seem 
to proceed from the deepest principle in our nature ? If the will 
be free, what is the consequence ? And what if not ? 



CHAPTER II. 

SECTION I. 

1. What alone can we properly be said to know ? When we do 
thus note objects, what happens ? What must all real knowledge 
be ; then? Why, then, are knowledge and consciousness equiva- 
lent ? What is said of knowing, and knowing that we know ? 

2. What is said of the probability, from the nature of things, of 
there being a species of knowledge wholly fugitive and transitory? 
What do many of our acts seem to imply ? How can we know 
that we ever have such thoughts ? If there be such mental states, 
what must they be considered ? What do they seem to constitute ? 



QUESTIONS ON IHE TEXT. 259 

3. In what kind of processes are such states of sub-conscious- 
ness implied ? What are such operations when first performed ? 
What do they become in time ? How does Hamilton regard them ? 
How are they regarded by others ? What is meant by automatic ? 
What is Stewart's view of the case ? 

4. Do the usual antecedents of knowledge always awaken any 
mental apprehension ? In what cases do they not ? Can we be 
quite certain of this ? What is said of the striking of a clock ? 
How shall we account for the recalling of such an impression? 
Why does the rapid revolution of a lighted torch produce the 
appearance of an entire circle of light (note) ? 

5. What, then, is consciousness not, and what is it ? How does 
the mind work as compared with a machine ? How can knowing, 
willing, and feeling, become distinct acts, and how can they be 
realized ? What, then, is consciousness ? How is it related to 
perception ? 

6. What is embraced under the facts of consciousness ? What 
is the meaning of subjective (note) ? What may consciousness be 
considered as the subjective side of? As such, what may it em- 
brace ? What, then, does consciousness, in its most general sense 
include ? What may the mind do with these primitive materials ? 
What is the limit, then, of human knowledge ? 



SECTION II. 

1. What is the most important question in philosophy ? What 
do we want here ? What should be rejected and what admitted ? 
What is to be taken as final ? What is the sole question here ? 
In what respect is this question to be attended to here ? 

2. What are we conscious of in perception ? Of what in the 
perception of a tree, for instance ? Suppose that in our first per- 



260 QUESTIONS ON THE TEXT. 

ceptions we are conscious of nothing beyond the affection of the 
organ? What does our experience of resistance lead to ? 

3. How then are the two elements presented in perception ? Do 
we ever regard the two as the same ? Is the object perceived ever 
regarded as a mere thought of the mind ? How, then, does the 
mind always regard perceived objects? Do all men so regard 
them ? What conviction can we never get rid of ? 

4. What is there not a consciousness of in memory ? What is 
the mental action in memory ? What do we reproduce and recog- 
nize in memory ? Does consciousness directly reveal any thing 
out of the mind in memory ? What have we, then, in memory ? 

5. What are we conscious of in imagination ? How is the fig- 
ment of the imagination regarded ? What, then, are we conscious 
of, respectively, in perception, in memory, and in imagination ? 

6. What is the object before the mind in intuition and concep- 
tion ? What in judgment ? What in reasoning ? What in feel- 
ing ? What in willing ? 



SECTION III. 

1. What is here said of the facts of consciousness ? What of 
the truths of consciousness? If they are not mere secondary 
notions, what authority do they rest upon ? If original convictions, 
what then ? How are these primary principles to be regarded ? 

I. What is the first class of these truths ? 

1. What is said of the possibility of directly perceiving space ? 
How must it be reached, if reached at all through the action of the 
organs ? But what is change of place, and how alone can it be 
understood ? Can we, then, derive our idea of space from motion ? 



QUESTIONS ON THE TEXT. 261 

2. When we say that we see objects here and there, and move 
riere and there, what are the real facts in the case ? What does the 
truth seem to be? How do our sensations reveal themselves, and 
what does this give rise to ? Would objects appear extended un- 
less the mind so conceived them ? 

3. What is the most conclusive evidence that our idea of space 
is not a generalization from experience ? In what sense may we 
be said to experience space ? Why, then, should our notion of 
space, if derived from this source, be finite ? But what is our 
notion of it in fact ? Can we place any bounds to space even in 
imagination ? 

4. Can we perceive time by the senses ? Can we derive our 
notion of it from succession, and why not ? How, then, are the 
now and the then added ? Do we conceive time as limited ? What 
appears, then, with regard to space and time ? Can we think of 
any thing as out of space and time ? 

5. Can we directly perceive substance ? What alone do we 
directly apprehend in perception ? But how are we compelled to 
think of these qualities and states ? How are they conceived ? 
How, then, do we come to assume a substantive existence for our- 
selves and other objects ? 

6. What idea springs up within us on observing changes ? 
What do we mean by causation ? Can we directly perceive the 
exertion of power in causation ? What was Hume's inference in 
regard to causation, from this ? 

7. In order to save the idea of causation, then, what must be 
shown ? What do those who regard the idea as empirical derive it 
from ? But what may we, and what may we not, be said to expe- 
rience in the exercise of our wills ? What do we really infer id 
the case? What are we here actually conscious of? Can wc 
doubt the causal connection in the case of our wills especially! 
But what kind of knowledge is this ? 



2oZ QUESTIONS ON THE TEXT. 

8. Of what character, then, must our idea of causation be? 
What does our mental constitution compel us to ? What form 
does the causal notion assume in our minds ? Does the extent of 
our experience make any difference in regard to the universality of 
our notion in the case ? 

9. Why is it not necessary to suppose that the real causal power 
lies in the antecedent ? Can we perceive any particular adapted- 
ness in one object over another to produce a given effect ? Is it 
easy for us to believe that one form of matter has any real power 
over another ? 

10. To what does this doctrine of causation lead ? What is true 
of a succession of finite beings or events ? What besides Revela- 
tion attests to such a beginning in man, and other races of animals 
and plants ? As what other cause, besides the first cause, do we 
regard God ? Where does our idea of causation find its complete 
exemplification ? 

11. What is the second class of these truths ? 

1. What are we not, and what are we conscious of in memory ? 
What do we firmly believe in ? What authority does the recollec- 
tion have with us ? 

2. How do we know that the representative thought is not delu- 
sive ? What determines us to the conclusion that it is not ? Do 
we believe any more firmly in the perceptions of our senses ? 
What shows the firmness of our belief in the truthfulness of mem- 
ory ? What is effected by this law of our nature ? 

3. What is meant by personal identity ? What is it in us which 
seems always the same ? In what sense are we not continuously 
conscious (explanatory note) ? How alone can past states of con- 
sciousness be known ? Upon what, then, must our belief in our 



QUESTIONS ON THE TEXT. 263 

personal identity rest ? How would you state the case ? What 
does memory predicate in the case ? State the argument. 

III. What is the third class of these truths ? 

1. What are some of the logical axioms ? What the mathemat- 
ical ? Can these axioms be verified by experience, and what is 
their character ? 

2. Does this enumeration exhaust the primary truths of con- 
sciousness ? How is this section to be closed ? 

(1.) When is a conviction incomprehensible ? What is the case 
when we are able to comprehend why or how a thing is ? 

(2.) How is the simplicity of a cognition a test of its originality ? 

(3.) How are necessity and universality coincident ? What are 
the two kinds of necessity here spoken of? What are the cogni- 
tions characterized by the two kinds of necessity respectively 
called ? 

(4.) What is the fourth character of original beliefs ? How are 
the third and fourth characters expressed by Aristotle ? How is 
the latter expressed by Buffier ? 



SECTION IV. 

1. What is the question here? Why, especially, is it necessary 
to consider this question ? What has been thought necessary to 
establish the truth of any thing ? 

2. To what do proofs owe their validity ? What do they start 
with and proceed by ? Why cannot every thing be proved P 
What must the starting points in knowledge be ? 



264 



QUESTIONS ON THE TEXT. 



3. What is said of some of these first principles ? Whal is the 
probability about the truth of such convictions ? What is tbe case 
with others ? Suppose they are not realities, what then ? 

4. How alone can the presumption in favor of the truth of these 
primary intuitions be removed ? What is it always allowable to 
deny ? But what must the doubter show ? 

5. How is philosophy here defined ? What should such & phi* 
losophy exclude, and what admit? What is one particular fact, 
then, which it must admit ? What should be the simple obj^t of 
inquiry here ? 

SECTION V. 

1. What is attention ? When is there no special exercist of 
attention ? What is the state of the mind in such cases ? ftut 
when does attention begin, and what is the case in its highest con- 
centration ? 

2. When the consciousness is concentrated, how is it with the 
mind, and why? When the attention to any thing is complete, 
what is true of other mental operations ? What is the state of the 
mind,- then, in attention ? 

3. How is the attention concentrated ? How far is the attention 
under the control of the will ? How far can the will resist dis- 
tracting influences ? What are thus indicated ? 

4. To control the will, what should we cultivate ? What should 
we form a settled purpose of doing ? When we turn our attention 
to any thing, with what determination should we do it ? With 
what state of mind should we always work ? What will be the 
effect of such a course ? 



5. How may distracting influences be jiminished ? What do 
wandering thoughts come of ? What are our minds formed for ? 



QUESTIONS ON THE TEXT. 2o5 

What is the natural order of thoughts ? How is it in memory and 
reasoning? What have we to do, then, to exclude wandering 
thoughts ? How else may we protect ourselves against disturbing 
influences ? When we wish to command our attention, to what 
influences should we not leave ourselves exposed ? What do in- 
tense or protracted mental efforts require ? 

6. What is another means of controlling the attention ? Wrat 
are instances of this ? What will be the effect upon the mind ? 

7. What is reflection ? What is a more precise definition ? Of 
what is a mental state, as a passing phenomenon, the object, and of 
what, when taken up for examination ? 

8. Why need no extended remarks be made upon reflection? 
In what sort of studies is the power of reflection specially neces- 
sary ? What does psychology rest upon ? What, then, does the 
success of the student in this science depend upon ? How may 
the power of reflection be acquired ? 



CHAPTER III. 

SECTION I. 

1. What two elements does consciousness embrace ? How may 
we accept this fact in the first place ? How else may we accept it ? 
How else ? How else ? How else ? How else ? How many 
theories of perception, then, may there be ? 

2. What does the first theory of perception hold to, and what is 
it called ? What does realism receive, and why ? W T hat does it 
not attempt to explain, and what does it hold to be conceivable ? 

3. How does realism hold that objects are immediately per- 
ceived ? What does it hold the impressions made upon the senses 



266 QUESTIONS ON THE TEXT. 

to be ? How does it conceive the mind as connected with the 
organism ? How does such a connection lead to a knowledge of 
external objects ? 

4. What is here said of this theory ? Whose theory was it in- 
tentionally, and who has lately expounded it anew ? 

5. What is the second theory of perception called ? According 
to this theory, what is true of mind and matter, God and Nature ? 
Or, how may the case be stated more accurately ? What then are 
mind and matter ? What is consciousness on this theory ? What 
is perception ? Who are the representatives of this theory ? 

6. What does this theory do violence to ? State the case. Why 
cannot the system be generally received ? 

7. What does the third theory make perception ? How does it 
account for the origin of ideas in the mind ? What does this the- 
ory do with the external world ? Who are its representatives ? 

8. What can no one deny ? How may the idealist logically 
prove that no external world can be perceived ? Can the mind rest 
in such a conclusion, and why not? How can life become ideal, 
and what is the consequence ? 

9. What does the fourth theory make thought, and what is it 
called ? What is said of the danger of adopting this theory ? 
What office does the body perform in perception ? How far may 
we trace up the mechanical part of perception ? Can we conceive 
that matter thinks ? 

10. What is the fifth theory called, and why? Why cannot 
states of consciousness be denied ? What is allowed ? But what 
then ? How does this theory err ? Who are its representatives ? 

11. Why has the sixth theory received different designations? 
What is the first name which it has received, and why ? What are 
the second and third names which it has received, and why ? 



QUESTIONS ON THE TEXT. 267 

12. Wha' objection is there against this theory ? Is its assump- 
tion of the existence of the external world warranted ? What 
belief does it deny, and what assert ? Is the belief denied less 
clear and strong than that affirmed? Suppose the mind really 
knows nothing of external object, what then ? 



section n. 

1. What do we not, and what do we directly perceive in mind or 
matter? In what sense do we know even these qualities and 
states ? For aught we know, what may they be ? What, however, 
is the presumption in the case ? 

2. What remark of Cicero is here quoted ? What is conscious- 
ness, as far as revealed to us ? How does consciousness always 
reveal itself ? What does it say ? What is the 1 in such expres- 
sions ? What, then, do we necessarily assume for ourselves ? 

3. What is here said of matter ? What, then, becomes impor- 
tant for us ? What classifications have been made of the qualities 
of matter ? 

4. What are the primary qualities of matter ? What is said of 
motion and situation ? 

5. What is the character, and what the names, of the secondary 
properties of matter ? How are these properties known ? How 
are they really apprehended ? 

6. How many phases do the secundo-primary qualities of matter 
have ? How do they manifest themselves on their primary phasis ? 
How on their secondary ? To what classes are these qualities to be 
reduced ? 

7. Why are the following observations from Hamilton introduced 
here, and from what work of his are they taken ? 



268 QUESTIONS ON THE TEXT. 

(1.) Under what point of view do the primary qualities deserve 
the name of qualities ? "Why do the other two classes more prop- 
erly deserve the name ? Illustrate (see explanatory note). 

(2.) What do the primary arise from ? What the secundo-pri- 
mary ? What the secondary ? Illustrate. 

(3.) What do the primary determine ? What the secundo-pri- 
mary ? What the secondary ? Illustrate. 

(4.) What do we apprehend under the primary ? What under 
the secundo-primary ? What under the secondary ? Illustrate. 

(5.) How are the primary apprehended ? How the secondary ? 
How the secundo-primary ? Illustrate. 

(6.) In which of the classes are the names of the qualities uni- 
vocal, and in which equivocal ? What are some instances of the 
equivocal names of qualities ? Illustrate. 

(7.) Under what relation to our organism are the primary quali- 
ties, qualities of body ? Under what the secundo-primary? Under 
what the secondary ? Illustrate. 

(8.) What are the primary ? What the secondary ? What the 
secundo-primary ? Illustrate. 

(9.) How may the primary be characterized ? How the secundo- 
primary ? How the secondary ? Illustrate. 

(10.) What are the apprehensions of the primary ? What of 
the secondary ? What of the secundo-primary ? Illustrate. 

(11.) What is the state of the mind in the apprehension of the 
primary qualities ? What in the apprehension of the secondary F 
What in that of the secundo-primary ? Illustrate. 

(12.) What relation does the sensation hold in the perception of 



QUESTIONS ON THE TEXT. 269 

primar qualities ? What in the perception of the secu ado-pri- 
mary ? What in the perception of the secondary ? Illustrate. 

(13.) *Vhat furnish the conditions for the perception of the 
primary qualities, and what the sensations of the secondary ? 
How are the secundo-primary qualities apprehended as percepts, 
and how as sensations ? Illustrate. 

(14.) As modes of matter, how are the primary thought ? 
How the secundo-primary ? How the secondary ? Illustrate. 

(15.) What is the apprehension of a primary quality principally, 
and what secondarily ? What the apprehension of a secondary 
quality ? What of a secundo-primary quality ? Illustrate. 



SECTION III. 

1. What is not expected here ? What is the object here ? Ii 
perception wholly arbitrary ? What about it is fixed ? 

2. What is the medium of the mind in perception ? Through 
what are the mind and its object brought most directly face to 
face ? How is the body, however, essential even here ? What 
does the possession of an organism and of the power of changing 
place render us capable of? Of what two things are we conscious? 
In such a case, then, what do we know? Of what two things 
are we conscious here ? What relation do they hold to each 
other ? What sort of a perception is this ? 

3. Of what, however, are we really conscious here ? What two 
things have already been repeatedly stated ? When we become 
conscious of resistance, what do we immediately assume ? What 
is true then of a quality and its subject ? 

4. What of the body in perception by the senses proper ? What 
is an indispensable condition here ? What is meant by this P 
State the case m regard to the different senses. 



270 QUESTIONS ON THE TEXT. 

5. What is here said of the distinction of an object and a 
medium ? What is the distinction here referred to (see note) ? 
What alone can we perceive ? When is an object in relation to an 
organ ? What are all the senses modifications of? 

6. What happens to the organ in all cases of perception ? By 
what is the organ modified ? How does the case stand in sight ? 
How in the other cases ? 

7. Is it certain that there is in perception any modification of the 
organ below the surface ? What has been the common supposition 
on this point, and what are the theories to which it has given rise ? 
What is said of these theories ? What question here still remains 
unsettled ? 

8. What is the first argument for a special sensorium at the 
centre ? What the second ? What the third ? But what are the 
first and the last really arguments against ? 

9. What is the first argument against the notion that the mind 
is confined to the centre of the organism ? What the second ? 
What the third ? What the fourth ? 

10. On the whole, what is the view in the case which is attended 
with the fewest difficulties ? What follows from this view ? 

11. What, then, is a sensation ? How, through sensations, do we 
apprehend extension ? To what is direct perception by the senses 
confined ? How do we become conscious of our organism as ex- 
tended ? How do we infer extension in external bodies ? How 
do we infer the existence of the secondary properties in matter ? 



SECTION II. 

I. 1. What sensation is called touch ? What is the more in- 
ternal sensation caused by pressure called ? What that caused by 



QUESTIONS ON THE TEXT. 2T1 

violent contact, etc. ? What is the muscular sense ? What other 
peculiar and occasional feelings are there ? 

2. In what nerves do these sensations have their seat ? Describe 
these nerves ? Whence comes the feeling experienced in the use 
of the other senses ? What is said of the nerves of each sense ? 
How do we learn this in the case of sight ? 

3. What is said of the extent of our experience through touch ? 
What do its sensations furnish? What other sensations do we 
experience through this sense ? 

4. What is the most important organ of this sense, and why ? 
How is this shown in the case of the blind man ? What is said of 
determining the form of small and large bodies respectively ? 

II. 1. What is the organ of this sense, and how furnished? 
What nerve alone is susceptible of the sensation of taste ? What 
substances alone affect this sense, and why ? What arrangement 
is made in consequence ? What injures or destroys the taste ? 

2. What is a taste properly ? How do we learn the cause of a 
taste ? Do we know the nature of the property which gives rise to 
taste ? What physical elements does a taste involve ? But what 
are these sufficient for ? What do we often do in recalling a taste ? 

3. What tendency is there with regard to articles which have an 
agreeable taste, and the opposite ? What sort of a test of its 
wholesomeness is the taste of an article ? What assistance do the 
other senses render in this matter ? 

HI. 1. What is the organ of smell, and how is it constructed ? 
How can an organ thus situated and constructed be reached? 
What substances, then, are odoriferous ? 

2. What is a smell, properly ? How do we learn its cause ? 
What do we learn on further inquiry ? What do we conclude 
then ? What may be said of the physical character of a smell ? 



272 QUESTIONS ON THE TEXT. 

3. In what does the importance of smell appear ? What does it 
enlarge ? 

IV. I. What is the organ of vision ? What is the course of 
the rays of light to the chamber of the eye ? What from this 
point ? Why do they form an inverted image ? 

2. Where does the susceptibility of sight reside, and what is 
required for perfect vision ? Of what adjustments is the eye capa- 
ble in order to secure a distinct image, etc. ? How far are these 
powers of adjustment competent to the end ? What of glasses ? 

3. What is vision? What effect does the light produce upon 
the retina ? How do we know that the organ is thus affected, and 
that it is this affection of which we are conscious ? What is sight, 
then, previous to experience ? 

4. What is color, then ? Whose statement of the case is here 
introduced? 

5. How does Hamilton state his doctrine on this point ? How 
many peculiarities does he state there are in the case ? 

(1.) What does he say of the organic affection of color ? What 
of its apprehension, as far as it is a sensation ? 

(2.) Under what conditions do we become conscious of the affec- 
tion of color ? How is it apprehended in consequence of this ? 

(3.) What do the filaments of the optic nerve afford us ? How 
ilone can these sensations be realized ? What do these circum- 
stances show ? What do they not warrant ? 

6. What becomes of the fallacies of sight according to this view 
of vision ? What are some of these fallacies ? Is there any de- 
ception here ? How do we learn the actual size, etc., of things ? 

7. What do we soon leant to infer from the affection of vision ? 



QUESTIONS ON THE TEXT. 273 

What is the first step ? What the next ? What do we henct con- 
clude ? What do we soon verify, and why ? What do we soon 
come to take the visual affection as the sign of? How is the rest 
learned ? 

8. What further do we learn by experience ? How alone can 
we become conscious of the inverted position of the image on the 
eye ? In learning this, what other corrective fact do we learn at 
the same time ? What does the law of visible direction show ? 

9. How alone is an object distinctly and satisfactorily seen? 
Are all objects thus scrutinized by us ? What do we learn by this 
scrutiny ? What do we soon come to understand ? What corre- 
spondence is there between the image and its object ? 

10. How do we learn the form of objects by sight ? Why can 
we not see form except in a single dimension ? How do we judge 
of the form of a solid body from sight ? How when rays of light 
from it can reach us from only one side ? 

1 1. What is not, and what is, the question here ? How may 
this question be answered in a general way ? Why have we double 
organs ? On what principle does no confusion arise from this 
arrangement ? 

12. Why must the two eyes take in different aspects of the sam. 
object ? When does this become consciously so to one ? Why d« 
not all objects appear so to us ? How are the two images brough* 
together ? But what shows that in practice we do actually recog- 
nize the two images and combine them into one ? What is the 
arrangement of the stereoscope, and what the result ? 

13. How do we learn to judge of distance by sight ? Can we 
see distance, and how is it shown that we cannot ? How do we 
learn to infer it ? From the distance of an object, what else do 
we infer ? What does vision thus become the source of? 



274 QUESTIONS ON THE TEXT. 

14. Why do our judgments from vision require uniform condi- 
tions in the atmosphere ? If the light from an object is bent out 
of its course, how will the object appear ? What is the effect of a 
hazy atmosphere upon the appearance of objects ? What is the 
cause of the increased apparent size of the sun and moon when 
near the horizon, according to Berkeley ? What according to 
Descartes ? 

15. How are these illusions of sight rectified ? How may they 
be explained ? What is here said of sight ? 

V. 1. What is the organ of hearing ? What is the structure 
and different parts of the ear ? How are the vibrations collected 
and conveyed to the auditory nerve ? 

2. What is sound ? What is the immediate, and what the re- 
mote cause of the affection ? What is considered as the real 
cause ? What assists us in determining the direction of a sound, 
and tracing it to its source ? On what is the art of ventriloquism 
founded ? How does the ventriloquist accomplish his object ? 

3. What information do we derive through the sense of hearing? 
How does the exercise of our powers of speech depend upon 
hearing ? 

SECTION V. 

1. What is said, in general, of the comparative importance of 
the senses ? The loss of which is the most fatal ? Of which the 
most deplorable ? What, however, is true of the loss of hear- 
ing ? 

2. What of their individual and combined importance ? What 
is accomplished by them ? What by taste ? What by smell and 
hearing ? What by touch and sight ? 

3. What do the senses collect, then ? What constitute all our 
knowledge ? What, then, depend upon the materials collected by 



; 



QUESTIONS ON THE TEXT. 275 

the senses ? What, then, is obvious ? Without the proper use of 
the senses what must always be the case ? 

4. What sciences are founded upon observed facts ? What is 
the principal thing in most of these sciences ? What is the case 
in all branches of natural history ? What in natural philosophy 
and astronomy ? 

5. What is language largely built upon? What is the first 
meaning of most words ? What do a large part of the words of 
every language refer to ? What is the case with the other words ? 
Upon what, then, must the force and meaning of a language 
depend ? 

6. What is true in regard to these facts ? What alone is neces- 
sary on our part in order to perceive them ? What will an ever- 
wakeful attention enable even the common man to do in regard to 
them ? 

7. What, then, does great importance attach to ? What is 
effected by this ? What must one do in the exercise of this habit ? 
What will such an exercise put him in possession of? What alone 
does one, with such materials, want to make him a great philoso- 
pher ? 

8. What inference is made from the above? What should 
parents and teachers do ? How should observation by the senses 
be conducted in our schools ? 



CHAPTER IV. 

SECTION I. 

1. What does the term memory designate loosely ? What wnen 
we speak with precision ? What according to its derivation ? How 
does what we perfectly remember seem ? How does recollection 
recognize the reproduction of the past ? 



276 QUESTIONS ON THE TEXT. 

2. What, then, is the difference between memory and recollec- 
tion ? How does the object sought present itself in the two pro- 
cesses ? What are instances of the two kinds of reproduction •* 
Is this distinction between the two words always maintained ? 

3. Who is said to have a ready, and who a tardy memory? 
What is this difference in memory owing to ? What promotes a 
ready, and what a tardy memory ? 

4. What has tended to disparage memory as a mental endow- 
ment? What does not, and what does readiness of memory 
imply ? What does any extraordinary capacity in one power seem 
to imply in regard to the others? Why is great readiness of 
memory likely to prove a fatal gift ? But may not memory be in 
excess ? But what must a good mind have ? What form does 
memory assume in such minds ? How is their knowledge asso- 
ciated and recalled ? How is it with such in regard to the random 
power of memory ? 

5. Do memory and recollection often coexist in equal degrees in 
the same mind ? What is the case with the desultory memory ? 
What with the philosophical memory? In what rare characters 
are the two species of memory found united ? 

6. Which prevails more in youth ? Which in mature age ? 
Why should it be so ? How is it in old age ? 

7. What is said of the above account of the distinction between 
memory and recollection? What does Hamilton limit the term 
memory to ? What is all conscious reproduction of the past 
according to this view ? Is this admitted ? But with what reser- 
vation ? 

SECTION II. 

1» What is it to remember any thing ? What is it not ? What 
is said of the thing remembered ? What is the mind occupied 
witli then ? What is the thought of the object suggested by ? 



QUESTIONS ON THE TEXT. 277 

2. What does the mind do in remembering any thing ? Why 
should this picture appear almost like the thing itself? What 
arises from this as to our knowledge of the past ? 

3. What is obvious at the outset ? Why are objects of sight 
easily imaged to the mind? Give the illustrations. Can the object 
remembered be described ? 

4. What else is conceded ? Why can a remembered object of 
touch be described? What does the blind man who reads by 
raised letters remember? But how are objects of touch more 
commonly recalled ? 

5. What is proof that we remember sounds ? How only can a 
sound be described to another ? But why must a sound be repro- 
ducible in memory ? What are its physical elements, and to what 
may these be likened ? What can a musician do ? 

6. What else must be admitted ? What is said of their physical 
elements ? What are they at all events ? What is the evidence 
that we do recall them by their physical elements ? What does the 
uniform recognition of them on their recurrence show ? 

7. What else may we remember? Give the illustrations. Under 
what relations may many of these be remembered ? 

8. Is there any sense in which a process of reasoning may be 
remembered ? Is reasoning itself a process of memory ? By what 
does reasoning proceed ? Under what point of view, then, may it 
be remembered ? 

9. What does the public speaker do ? How is the memory aided 
in this process ? What does the mathematician do ? How is he 
aided in this ? 

10. What else, in short, may we remember ? How may they all 
be recalled ? What must be true with regard to every thing which 
has a name ? 



278 QUESTIONS ON THE TEXT. 

1 1. But what is it admitted are the most readily remembered ? 
Why ? Through what senses, then, should as much of our knowl- 
edge as possible be introduced ? What then is the advantage of 
models, diagrams, etc., in imparting knowledge ? 



SECTION HI. 

1. What is the object here? Is memory wholly a mystery P 
How far may it be traced up ? What has been found in regard to 
perception, and what will be found in regard to memory ? 

2. What is the cause of perception, and what of memory? 
When is an object perceived, and when recalled ? What is true 
alike in the simplest act of memory and the longest process of rec- 
ollection ? Do Ave remember at random or by a simple act of the 
will to do so ? What may the will effect in the case ? How alone 
can we reach the remembrance of the object sought for ? 

3. How do we remember a familiar friend ? Why do we remem- 
ber familiar objects the most readily ? What do we mean by char- 
ging the memory with any thing ? How are such special associa- 
tions accomplished ? 

4. In case a verbal lesson is to be committed, what is noted, and 
what associations are formed? What does the call to recite recall ? 
And what then ? What is the process if only the ideas are to be 
committed ? 

5. What objection may be made to this, and what reply may be 
made ? If there be no such recalling of words, notes, etc., what 
then? 

6. When we charge the memory with any thing, do we really 
commit it to the memory for safe keeping? What, then, do we do? 
Give the illustration. Of what nature are all the little arts of 
memory ? Explain the case of the string tied upon the finger ? 






QUESTIONS ON THE TEXT. 279 

7. What case of consciously voluntary recollection is given ? 
How would a person proceed in endeavoring to ascertain where he 
had lost his purse ? Why would every bridge, ferry, and tavern 
be specially recalled ? Repeat the process as a whole. 

8. What is evident, then ? What is memory not, and what is it? 
If so, what then ? Are ideas hoarded in the mind ? What is the 
case then ? What is memory ? How do ideas suggest each 
other ? 

9. Is the mind wholly inactive in memory ? What does it do ? 
What does the physical view of memory refer the reproduction of 
ideas to ? What is a fatal objection to this view ? What other 
view, on the whole, is better ? 



SECTION IV. 

1. What is the first law T of memory ? Why may this be called 
direct or simple memory ? 

2. What is this simple memory commonly called ? How does it 
appear that it is really an act of memory ? How does it differ 
from ordinary cases of memory ? What are the illustrations ? 

3. What is the second law of memory ? What does this law 
include ? 

4. What are instances of ideas recalling each other from a direct 
likeness ? What is said of a single feature in a face, or a single 
strain in a tune ? What are instances of ideas which recall each 
other from a fanciful likeness ? 

5. What is the first instance given of a prearranged association 
on the principle of likeness ? What is the second ? 

6. What 1 the third law of memory ? What does this la\r 
include ? 



280 QUESTIONS ON THE TEXT, 

7. What must be admitted, according to Hamilton? How is 
the thought of any thing which has been previously known as an 
integrant part of some whole, viewed, when reproduced ? What 
does it tend to call up ? What further than this ? Give the illus- 
trations. 

8. Why does the name of a person or place recall the individual 
or locality ? Why do we remember those places best which we 
have personally visited? Why should the names of places be 
printed distinctly on maps in connection with the localities ? 

9. Why are the feelings and tone of the mind affected by time 
and place ? Give the illustrations. 



10. What is the fourth law of memory? Why should contrasted 
objects recall each other ? What are some of the contrasts which 
we meet with in our experience ? What instance is given to illus- 
trate the law ? 

11. How, perhaps, should this law be regarded? How does the 
relation here compare with that of real relatives, and what is the 
relation there ? Give the examples. How should the law of rela- 
tives be regarded then ? But what may be the case where the 
relation is looser ? 



12. What is the fourth law of memory ? 

13. What may this law be called ? What is true of association 
and reminiscence in different individuals ? Upon what does the 
course they take in different cases depend ? By whom are these 
variations and their grounds well stated ? 

14. (1.) Who is named as remembering words more readily, and 
who things ? What other variations are here named ? 

(2.) What is said of the natural organization and temperament ! 
Who are named as having wonderful powers of memory ? 



QUESTIONS ON THE TEXT. 281 

(3.) What things settle deeply into the memory ? Why do men 
of less genius often excel those of greater genius in the matter of 
memory ? 

(4.) What is the effect of feeling upon recollection ? What things 
are remembered best then ? What example illustrates this P 

(5.) How is the memory strengthened? What are its effects 
upon the memory ? 

(6.) What effect does the unoccupied state of the mind have 
upon memory ? How is this illustrated ? What else in the state 
of mind in youth promotes the same thing ? 

15. What have these variations in memory sometimes been 
called? But what are they really? How are thoughts always 
associated and recalled ? But upon what do each one's associations 
depend ? 

16. How does a certain Lutheran divine reach the recollection of 
Babylon, and why? How might an astronomer reach it, and why? 

17. What is said of a merchant who has risks at sea ? Where is 
this illustrated? What are the associations referred to in the pas- 
sage quoted ? 

18. What should be fixed in our thinking in order to remember 
well? What is the case in mathematics? But how is it with 
most subjects? How can these be remembered readily? 

19. What are the four rules of Aquinas for insuring the memory 
of any thing ? 

20. When may reminiscence be said to be voluntary, and when 
involuntary? Why are the following observations from different 
authors subjoined? 

21. By virtue of what does reminiscence take place, according to 
Aristotle ? What associations, or movements, does he say we pass 



282 QUESTIONS ON THE TEXT. 

through, and what do we reach? According to what four law* 
does he say that we excogitate that which we seek ? 

22. When the dog has once got upon the track of his game, how 
does he proceed ? How, then, should he proceed who would re- 
cover his past thoughts from oblivion ? For what purpose should 
he speculate or think upon what remains to him ? 

23. "What instance of involuntary reminiscence is mentioned by 
Hobbes ? How does he explain the line of association ? 

24. What is said of mnemonics ? What is said of the associations 
and symbols employed in such artificial systems ? 

25. In what case does reminiscence follow by a necessary 
sequence? But what in the case is under our control? How 
may we keep our associations pure and right ? But suppose wrong 
thoughts are presented to us through association, what then ? 



.SECTION V. 

1. What is reminiscence? What is logical thinking? What 
are the points of difference between them? By what relations, 
respectively, do they proceed? Which is the higher kind of 
thought ? 

2. What is the logical order of thought, and to what does it 
stand opposed? What are the relations under which the mind 
admits the sequence of one thought from another ? When ideas 
are so arranged, what is the process of passing from one to the 
other called ? How does the mind trace the process ? 

3. But in what form may a process of reasoning be an object of 
memory ? And what is obtained in such a case ? How does the 
inferiority of such knowledge appear? To what, then, does so 
much importance attach ? 



QUESTIONS ON THE TEXT. 283 

4. How does all science arrange itself? When does the treat- 
ment of any subject become a science? Under what particular 
relations should the materials be arranged ? 

5. What has history been said to be? How do its materials 
seem at first view? How do they begin to arrange themselves 
when profoundly studied? When history is really understood, 
what is it not, and what is it ? 

6. How may much of geography and the daily experience of life 
be arranged? What have we no occasion to remember? For 
what must we depend upon memory ? What is true of all the 
great subjects of study ? 

7. What results from the laws of association and logical thought ? 
What is any considerable incoherence of thought evidence of? 
What is insanity ? 

SECTION VI. 

1. What is true of memory absolutely? What are all the facul- 
ties necessary for? What do the different faculties do? What 
would be the effect of the loss of either of the faculties? Is it 
clear that any one faculty can act without aid from some of the 
others ? What do we find to be the case in our mature experience ? 
But how do the faculties differ ? 

2. What is memory inferior to relatively ? What are the differ- 
ent functions of memory and perception ? Which is fundamental 
to knowledge ? Which depends upon the other ? 

3. What other power does memory rank below? Is reason 
wholly independent of memory? What is the aid rendered by 
memory ? But why must reason be higher than either memory or 
perception ? What is said of its movements ? 

4. What shows the inferiority of memory to reason ? How does 
memory retain knowledge? How does reason arrange it ? What 



284 QUESTIONS ON THE TEXT. 

is said of the knowledge retained by the memory when thus put to 
double duty ? 

5. What is memory generically the same as ? What is the dif- 
ference between memory and the imagination ? Which is the 
inferior power ? Which of these powers creates new forms ? May 
a good memory exist without a fine imagination ? Can the reverse 
be the case ? Considering them both as embraced under the repre- 
sentative faculty, how does the case stand ? Do we find it so in 
fact ? What, then, are the relations of memory to genius ? 

6. Where does the importance of memory appear most conspic- 
uously ? How alone, generally, can the details of every-day life be 
reached? What is this especially true of? How does the case 
stand with the professional man and the scholar ? 

7. What, then, is true of memory ? What has tended to dispar- 
age memory ? What are the effects of putting it to such a use ? 
How is memory most honored? 



CHAPTER V. 
SECTION I. 

1. What is the imagination, according to Hamilton ? How is 
imagination distinguished from perception and self-consciousness ? 
How from memory ? State the difference. 

2. How is the representative thought taken in memory, and how 
in imagination ? What do they each involve ? Give the illustra- 
tions. 

3. To what is the imagination limited for its materials ? What 
can it do with these materials ? What is said of centaurs and 
ephinxes, etc. ? What of the giant, etc. ? 



QUESTIONS ON THE TEXT. 285 

4. Of what form must the images of the imagination be ? Why ? 
What is said of Oriental images ? What is the thinking of abstract 
ideas called ? 

5. How are our images sometimes obtained ? Give the illustra- 
tions. How are the images obtained in other cases ? Like what 
other images and feelings are these images suggested ? 

6. How are the images contained in figures of speech awakened ? 
State the manner. Give the illustration. 

7. In what two ways may these images come to us ? When in 
one way, and when in the other ? What kind of writers have com- 
monly to search for their images? Give the illustration from 
Demosthenes. 

8. What kind of movements of the imagination are called fancy ? 
When is an image said to be fanciful? What sort of charac- 
ters does the fancy form ? What the imagination ? What is said 
of the character, in this respect, of certain works which are named ? 

9. What are fancies ? What conceits ? What is wit ? What 
do the ludicrous and grotesque depend upon ? 



SECTION II. 

1. What is necessary in order to the possession of any thing de- 
serving the name of intelligence? What powers are essential to 
this ? What is said of the imagination ? What does this prove in 
regard to the imagination ? What effect does it have upon life ? 
What is said of the intelligence which has barely the powers neces- 
sary for knowing ? In what light is every additional power to be 
regarded ? What, then, of the imagination ? 

2. In what is imagination here said to be of service? What 
does it add to conversation ? What is said of a topic of conversa* 



286 QUESTIONS ON THE TEXT. 

tion considered simply by itself? How may it be made attractive? 
What kind of conversation is best ? What promotes this ? 

3. How is the imagination serviceable to the orator? What 
must the orator do? What effect does passion have upon the 
imagination ? What are the figures of the orator called ? What 
are these ? 

4. What is the object of the orator ? What then must he do ? 
What is the most important auxiliary to him in doing this, beyond 
the simple power of logical thought ? Give the illustration from 
Demosthenes, 

5. By what power, more than by any other, is the genuine poem 
made? What is a true poem? How does the poet proceed in 
constructing his poem ? What is the source of the ornaments in 
poetry ? 

6. What is true of nearly all kinds of writing ? What is said 
of the philosophical style? What happens in the treatment of 
most subjects ? 

7. What is said of painters and sculptors ? What must they do 
when they copy direct from nature? But what is generally the 
case in the higher efforts of art ? What is said of the ideal ? 

8. To whom is the imagination here said to be of service? 
What is true of all objects and systems of objects in nature? 
What is this imaging out to ourselves of objects, their relations, 
etc., called ? What does this become when proved to be true to 
nature? Give the illustration. How does the physical philoso- 
pher succeed in interpreting nature ? 

9. To whom is the imagination of similar service ? What is said 
of geometric figures ? Upon what, then, must the success of the 
student of geometry depend ? What must one be able to do in 
order to obtain a vivid idea of geography and history ? 



QUESTIONS ON THE TEXT. 287 

10. To whom is the imagination of but little service ? How are 
the logical relations of ideas developed ? How may the imagina- 
tion be a hinderance in such a case ? But to what kind of reason- 
ers is it of service ? What service does it render such ? In what 
does the discursive power of the mind reside ? What, then, de- 
pends upon the imagination and the reason ? 



SECTION III. 

1. What renders the proper training of the imagination of great 
importance ? What does it need ? How may it be strengthened, 
and how chastened ? What are the three ways in which the imagi- 
nation may be improved ? 

2. What is true of every object which we perceive ? What are 
we filling the mind with, then, wherever we go ? How may we use 
the images thus obtained ? 

3. Is it sufficient merely to ramble among the works of nature ? 
What images alone are of any value ? What is said of the variety 
of nature ? What will be the consequence, then, when our images 
are exact copies from nature? How alone can such images be 
obtained ? What, then, do we see the importance of? 

4. How else may the imagination be improved ? What do books 
and works of art contain ? What is said of the images presented 
more especially in books ? What is true of a large part of these 
images? What is said of this source of improvement, compared 
with the study of nature ? 

5. How else may we improve the imagination ? How is it em- 
ployed in this case in comparison with the previous cases ? Give 
the illustrations. How is the work of the imagination in this case 
related to its work in the others ? What is the effect of these cre- 
ative efforts ? 



288 QUESTIONS ON THE TEXT. 

6. What does the imagination need besides strengthening? 
What is said of improper images ? What of a strong imagination 
without a just taste ? What should be cultivated along with the 
imagination ? What is the special province of taste ? What does 
the imagination become without this ? 

7. What other faculty should the imagination be kept in subor- 
dination to ? What does Bishop Butler say of the imagination ? 
When the reason is not cultivated, what does the imagination do ? 
With whom does it do this ? 

8. What has already been remarked ? In what respect may the 
imagination be of aid to the deductive reasoner, and in what respect 
a hinderance ? 

9. What other powers, then, should always be cultivated in con- 
nection with the imagination ? If these be not cultivated, what is 
the consequence ? 



CHAPTER VI. 

SECTION L 

1. What does conception mean, and what allusion is contained in 
the term ? What three things does the term embrace ? What is 
the last of these more properly called? What, then, does concep- 
tion correspond to ? What does concept correspond to ? 

2. What is conceiving, then ? Does the concept represent any 
particular object ? But what must its attributes not be, and why ? 
How, then, can the concept be fixed, so as to be reproducible in 
thought ? In what alone, then, are concepts embodied ? How are 
thej recalled and applied ? 

3. Can a concept be presented in a concrete image? Why not? 



QUESTIONS ON THE TEXT. 289 

In what, however, may it always be individualized? How is it 
individualized, and through what power ? 

4. What is the general notion of a triangle ? What is obvious 
in regard to such a notion ? Why is such a general notion incon- 
ceivable ? Who rejected it on this ground ? Would such a motion 
be a general notion? Why not? What is required that there 
should be such a general notion ? What is such a concept of a 
triangle ? 

5. Is it usually necessary to individualize our concepts ? Do we 
generally attempt it ? What do we substitute for general notions ? 
Give the illustration. But what is a test of the correctness of a 
concept ? 

6. When may a concept be said to be logically correct ? Give 
the illustration. When is a concept true or false really ? Give 
the illustration. 

7. Why is the conceivable regarded as possible ? What are we 
constrained to believe in regard to what we can think ? What in 
regard to what we cannot think ? Is inconceivability, then, equiv- 
alent to impossibility ? 

8. What is conception as an act ? What, then, may we properly 
be said to conceive ? What illegitimate use of the term is here 
pointed out ? Give the illustrations. 



section n. 

1. How do different objects appear in our first perceptions by 
sight ? What is done by degrees ? What do we acquire in time ? 
What is the knowledge thus acquired of individual objects called ? 

2. What has taken place in the mean time ? What does reflec- 



290 QUESTIONS ON THE TEXT. 

tion do? What, at length, do we come to do in perception? 
What in thinking of a class by its type ? 

3. What are our concepts becoming by experience ? How are 
our primary concepts enlarged? Give the illustrations. To what 
do our concepts continually tend ? 

4. In this gradation of concepts what is obvious? Give the 
illustration. How is this expressed in the language of logic ? 

5. What, then, does conception grow out of? What are con- 
cepts? How is the generalization accomplished? What is ab- 
straction ? 

SECTION III. 

What will tend further to illustrate the nature of conception ? 
What are the different classes of concepts ? 

1. When is a notion said to be distinct? Give the illustration. 
Are such notions necessarily distinct in every mind ? What are 
confused notions ? Such notions being clear, why are they said to 
be indistinct? By what other name do they sometimes go? 

2. When are notions said to be adequate ? Give the illustration. 
When is a notion said to be inadequate ? 

3. What are symbolical notions ? How are the terms designa- 
ting such notions generally used ? What is said of all familiar con- 
cepts ? What are notative concepts ? 

4. What are first notions? What are second notions? Give 
the illustrations, and the list of first and second notions. What 
alone is logic said to have to do with, and why ? 

5. What are positive notions ? What are negative ? W hat is 
said of the relation of positive and negative notions ? What are 



QUESTIONS ON THE TEXT. 291 

negative notions considered as destitute of? What, then, is Ine 
value of such notions ? Of what nature are our ideas of the infi- 
nite and the absolute ? 

6. What are irrespective notions ? What are relative notions ? 
Give instances of such notions. 

7. What concepts are technically known as abstract notions? 
Of what two classes are they ? When are these qualities said to 
be concrete ? 

8. What are the so-called necessary notions more properly? 
Under what point of view alone can our ideas of space, time, etc., 
be called concepts or general notions? What is the case with 
regard to the mathematical and logical axioms? What is true, then, 
of all concepts? 



SECTION IV. 

What is said of the controversy about general notions, and what 
are the three theories to which it has given rise ? 

1. 1. According to this theory, what sort of an existence are 
concepts regarded as having? What are they not? How are 
they to be regarded ? What are they thus only a peculiar form 
of? 

2. To what, according to Plato, do external objects address them- 
selves, and to what do they give rise ? What, then, is really per- 
ceived, and how far are objects perceived ? How are these ideas 
in the mind of God, and how in the mind of man ? When does 
man become conscious of them ? What, then, was his real world ? 
By whom were these views adopted, and how employed ? 

3. How does this theory of conception err ? In what sense are 
concepts real ? 



292 QUESTIONS ON THE TEXT. 

II. 1. What does not this theory deny ? What dc^es it contend 
for ? How does it represent concepts as standing in the mind ? 
In what, therefore, does it contend that all the generality in general 
notions lies ? 

2. What, then, does the nominalist hold to? How may his 
view be expressed in other words ? Can there, then, be any such 
general notion of a triangle, for instance, as was formerly con- 
tended for ? What, then, is the only remaining difference between 
the nominalist and the conceptualist ? To which view is the prefer- 
ence here given ? (See note.) 

III. 1. What is said of this view of conception? How do gen- 
eral notions exist according to this theory ? What are they ? 

2. What is said of the importance of language here? What 
does the name given to a concept effect ? Into what two classes 
are these general terms distributed ? Give specimens of the latter 
class. 

SECTION V. 

1. What have we seen conception to be? With what d"o we 
become acquainted through perception, and with what through 
conception ? How are the qualities given in perception, and how 
reached in conception? Which is the higher process then? 
What question is here asked ? 

2. What depends upon our conceptions? What are accurate 
perceptions and conceptions necessary for respectively? What 
kinds of knowledge depend upon our conceptions ? If our concep- 
tions are inadequate, what then ? What shows how large a part 
of our knowledge is thus affected ? 

3. What happens when knowledge becomes a mere knowledge 
of words ? How did Bacon point out the cause of this defect in 
the knowledge of his time ? What was the influence of the doc- 



QUESTIONS ON THE TEXT. 29& 

trines of the schoolmen in this matter ? When alone is knowledge 
fruitful ? When alone is the mind enriched ? 

4. What science furnishes forcible illustrations of the importance 
of conception ? What is the case with regard to the phases of the 
moon ? What other illustrations ? What is said of the solution 
of astronomical questions by algebra and by geometry respectively ? 

5. What is said of other sciences? What cases are here put? 
Is it of any avail merely to learn such terms ? In what do men 
fail especially ? What kind of education is specially defective ? 



CHAPTER VII. 
SECTION I. 

1. What is judgment ? What would be the case without this 
power ? What is done by the judgment ? Give the illustrations. 

2. How is the word " part " used here ? What does every judg- 
ment declare according to Aristotle ? What is the relation of the 
subject and predicate in the different kinds of judgment? 

3. One of what relations must all concepts in a judgment be re- 
garded as holding ? When, therefore, two concepts not holding 
one of these relations to each other are brought together in the 
form of a judgment, what is the judgment called ? For what pur- 
pose do we often have occasion to use such judgment? As what 
are they conceivable ? Give the illustrations. 

4. When alone is a judgment conceivable? Besides being in- 
telligible, what must a judgment be in order to be conceivable ? 
Give the illustrations. 

5. What is a true judgment ? What must the relation between 
the two concepts be in this case ? Give the illustrations. In this 



294 * QUESTIONS ON THE TEXT. 

kind of judgment what must be the case in regard to the relation 
of the concepts? 

6. What does judgment imply ? How alone can the relation be- 
tween the concepts be perceived? Give the illustration. What 
is an assertory judgment, and is there any proper comparison in 
this case? What alone is asserted in such a judgment? Give the 
illustration. 

7. Between what in two concepts is the relation considered as 
existing, when the judgment is regarded in its depth, and between 
what when it is regarded in its breadth ? Give the illustrations. 



SECTION II. 

How may judgments be divided according to the coincidence or 
non-coincidence of their concepts ? How according to the form 
of the language in which they are expressed ? How according to 
the agreement or repugnance of their ideas ? How according to 
the matter to which they relate ? How according as the predicate 
is merely explanatory, or adds something new ? 

1. What is said of this division ? One of what two things do 
all judgments assert? In which of these cases is the judgment 
substitutive, and in which attributive ? Give the illustrations. 

2. What do categorical judgments embrace in modern usage? 
What judgments do they not embrace ? But what does categories I 
always mean in Aristotle ? 

3. What are hypothetical judgments apparently ? Give the ex- 
amples. But what, in all such cases, is there in reality ? What, 
then, is the true logical form of the hypothetical judgment ? 

4. What apparently is there here also? What relation do the 






QUESTIONS ON THE TEXT. 295 

two apparent judgments hold to each other? What is the real 
judgment in the case ? 

5. What kind of judgments are called affirmative, and what 
negative judgments ? Give the examples. But suppose the nega- 
tive does not affect the copula ? Give the example. What is this 
last kind of judgment sometimes called ? 

6. What is said of judgments pertaining to necessary matter ? 
What of those relating to contingent matter ? Give the illustra- 
tions. 

7. What relation does the predicate bear to the subject in this 
class of judgments? What are judgments of this kind? Are 
analytical judgments identical ? Show that they are not. 

8. What is the relation of the predicate to the subject here ? 
What do such judgments express? What do they relate to? 
What do they indicate ? Give the illustration. 

9. To what does the classification of judgments as propositions 
belong ? How many forms of propositions have commonly been 
reckoned? How many more has Hamilton added? What may 
we embrace in both affirmative and negative judgments ? 



CHAPTER VIII. 

SECTION I. 

1. What is reasoning, when drawn out in full form ? What does 
the smallest movement in reasoning consist in? What is this 
called in logical language ? How does the mind advance in differ- 
ent operations ? What is always the object in reasoning ? How 
is this object gained ? Give the examples. 

2. What is called an argument? What is argument strictly? 



296 QUESTIONS ON THE TEXT. 

What is a syllogism? Give an argument, and turn it intc * 
syllogism. 

3. In a syllogism, what is the judgment which we wish to estab- 
lish called? What the general judgment with which we start? 
What the mediating judgment? Give the illustration. 

4. How is reasoning generally abridged in common discourse ? 
How does this arise ? What may happen in regard to such reason- 
ing? But how is it with the syllogism? 

5. What, then, is the syllogism ? What is it a test of, and a 
protection against ? Give the illustration. What is the form of 
syllogism here used called (note) ? How is the inconclusiveness 
of the reasoning here exhibited ? 

6. What is the object of all reasoning? What is the object of 
the syllogism ? Give the illustrations. 

7. How may all reasoning be expressed ? What is the longest 
train of reasoning when fully expressed? Does it make any differ- 
ence to what kind of matter the reasoning pertains ? What is said 
of logic ? What alone does it vouch for ? Give the illustration. 

8. Where does the chief difficulty lie in reasoning ? How are 
the media of proof generally best reached, and why ? What is the 
case in mathematical reasoning ? What is the case in inductive 
and probable reasoning generally ? 

9. In inductive reasoning, what is the guide to the connecting 
^onception, and upon what does the success of the inductive rea- 
joner depend ? What discoveries were made thus ? To what did 
Newton owe his discoveries ? To what the other discoverers here 
named ? 

10. What is the object of reasoning, then? What does the 
human mind tend towards? What does it seek? What does 
reason follow upon ? 



QUESTIONS ON THE TEXT. 297 



SECTION II. 

1. What is the case as to the form of reasoning ? But what 
distinctions are made in the process, and on what grounds ? 

2. What is all reasoning here distinguished into ? What is the 
process in inductive reasoning? What in deductive? 

3. What rule applies to inductive reasoning ? What to deduc- 
tive? 

4. Why must induction generally precede deduction ? How are 
the two processes used in the investigation of nature? Give the 
illustration. 

5. How is induction often used loosely ? What may be said of 
such imperfect inferences ? What, then, are most general princi- 
ples established from experience ? Give the illustration. 

6. What does this distinction of reasoning depend upon ? While 
the reasoning is the same in kind, how do the premises differ in the 
two cases ? What does Hamilton say of the term a priori in con- 
trast with a posteriori, as denoting elements of knowledge? 

7. What does Hamilton say was the usual meaning of a priori 
and a posteriori as denoting processes of reasoning previous to 
Kant ? To what kind of reasoning, however, had the term a priori 
been extended ? What does he say of the cosmological argument 
called a priori ? 

8 What does this distinction of reasoning depend upon ? What 
is said of the degree of evidence in the two cases ? What of the 
process of reasoning ? Where does the whole difference lie ? 

9. What does necessary matter include, and what contingent 
matter ? What, then, is necessary, and what contingent matter ? 
What is said of our knowledge of facts, and of certain principles 



298 QUESTIONS ON THE TEXT. 

of knowledge? But what alone presents an object of thought 
upon which all men not only do but must think alike ? 

10. What is said of both the question and every step of the 
solution in mathematical reasoning ? Give the illustrations. How 
is space apprehended by us ? What is said of the other forms of 
quantity ? 

11. But how is it in regard to the object to be reasoned about 
in probable reasoning ? In such questions what do we not find to 
start with ? And what do we have to start with, and how proceed ? 
What may such reasons be sufficient for ? But what are they not 
sufficient for ? Why is probable reasoning called moral reasoning ? 

12. Is demonstrative reasoning the most important because it is 
the most convincing ? What should be the effect of a proof upon 
the conduct, which is sufficient to determine the reason ? If it does 
not determine the conduct, what is it evidence of? What, then, 
does the necessity of depending so largely upon probable evidence 
become an important test of? Which is the most used by us, 
probable or demonstrative evidence? What does Bishop Butler 
say of probability ? 

13. What is abstract reasoning? What does it embrace in 
terms ? To what is it chiefly applied ? Give the illustration. 

SECTION HL 

1. What have we seen in regard to reasoning? How do the 
foundations of knowledge depend upon reason ? What, then, be- 
comes important ? Can the reason give reasons for every thing ? 
What must it accept as final? 

2. What do primary judgments of fact relate to ? What are 
some of these judgments ? 

3. What reasoning becomes impossible if these primary judg- 



QUESTIONS ON THE TEXT. 299 

ments of fact are denied ? What does all probable reasoning rest 
upon ? If, then, the primary elements of experience be not admit- 
ted, what follows ? How was it that Hume subverted the fabric 
of knowledge in his day, and how was it restored by Reid and his 
followers ? 

4. Upon what else does much of reasoning depend ? What are 
some of these necessary judgments ? What is said of our notions 
of cause and effect, and of space and time ? 

5. What conceptions lie at the foundation of mathematical rea- 
soning ? Suppose their validity is denied, what then ? Can they 
be denied ? Have the mathematical sciences ever been assailed by 
scepticism ? How has it been with the idea of causation ? 

6. Upon what else does reasoning depend ? What axioms are 
employed wholly in mathematical reasoning? What others may 
be employed in probable reasoning also ? To what laws of thought 
is there a constant appeal in reasoning? 

7. What does the principle of identity teach ? Are we at liberty 
to question the sameness of a thing every time it recurs ? How 
does this principle lie at the foundation of all legitimate judgments ? 
And how, especially, does it apply to analytical judgments ? 

8. What are the different forms under which this principle has 
been stated ? What is the meaning in all cases ? Give the illus- 
trations. 

9. What does this principle teach? What are our decisions od 
this principle, and on the preceding, respectively ? Do we decide 
thus when we comprehend neither of the alternative propositions £ 
Give the example. 

10. What do these and the like truths and principles form? 
How are they to be regarded ? 



300 QUESTIONS ON THE TEXT. 



SECTION IV. 

1. How are the reasoning powers improved ? What is the con- 
dition for the improvement of all our powers ? State the case. 

2. To improve the reasoning powers, in what order should we 
be in the habit of arranging and retracing our knowledge ? What 
is the logical order of thoughts ? When do we merely remember, 
and when do we reason ? What then is the great field for the im- 
provement of our reasoning powers ? 

3. What is mathematical reasoning coincident with ? What is 
Hamilton's conclusion in regard to the effect of this kind of reason- 
ing upon the reasoning powers ? What is said of the views of 
others ? 

4. Where does the truth probably lie in this case ? What is 
true in regard to mathematical reasoning ? What is said of the 
nature of mathematical deduction ? But what kind of a deduction 
is required in every mathematical question ? What does it require 
a good deal of reflection to perceive, and something more than 
patience to trace ? What, on the whole, can there be no doubt of? 

5. What does probable reasoning embrace ? What must it re- 
quire, and why ? How does it compare with mathematical reason- 
ing ? Where will the effect of this kind of reasoning in improving 
the reasoning powers be best seen ? 

6. Where is there a large demand for the use of probable reason- 
ing ? What is the object of metaphysical inquiries ? What is 
said of these questions ? What of the arguments by which they 
are established ? What books are referred to as fine gymnastics 
for the reasoning powers ? 

7. What is the field where probable reasoning has the widest 
scope ? What is said of the proof of facts by circumstantial evi- 
dence ? What is said of the case where the fact to be established 



APPENDIX. 301 

deeply affects human interests ? What is said of the construction 
of such arguments p What of their analysis ? 

8. What is logic ? Can any art of reasoning be taught ? What 
does reasoning proceed by ? How alone, then, can we improve our 
reasoning powers ? How does logic promote this end ? How, 
then, does the study of logic tend to improve our reasoning 
powers ? 

9. What is here said of the reasoning powers ? What is reason- 
ing ? How does it proceed ? What is it ever tending towards ? 



APPENDIX. 

1. How has philosophy been defined ? What is it the fruit of? 
What is the effect of experience ? What is said of the age of 
philosophy ? In what are its beginnings seen ? 

2. Where alone, among the ancients, did philosophy advance 
beyond mythology ? What is the history of ancient philosophy 
then ? What is said of philosophy among the Greeks ? How did 
it commence there ? What is said of the elements and powers of 
nature ? What is said of the causes to which things were traced ? 
With what school of philosophers does Greek philosophy begin, 
and at what period ? 

3. What, at first, would naturally be the character of philoso- 
phy ? What would it do in the progress of ideas ? With what 
has philosophy progressed ? 

4. What will primitive philosophy, then, generally be found to 
be ? How will intelligence be regarded ? How nature ? What 
will be the first step of the philosopher then ? At the same time; 



302 APPENDIX. 

what else will happen? What were the archce of the Ionian 
philosophers ? 

5. What was the birthplace and age of Thales ? How is he re- 
garded by Aristotle? What was his doctrine? Why did he 
assume water as the basis of all things ? What, then, was the 
single problem of his philosophy ? 

6. What is said of the birthplace, etc., of Anaximander? 
What was the first principle of things with him ? What is said of 
his prima materia ? What does he seem to have felt ? What did 
his analysis find, and hence what did he conceive ? 

7. What is said of Anaximenes ? What was his first principle 
of things ? Why did he assume this ? 

8. What is said of the birthplace, age, etc., of Heraclitus? 
What was his first principle of things ? What was this the com- 
mon ground of? What was the phenomenal world? What, 
according to his view, does the very existence of sensible things 
consist in ? What does this perpetual flow arise from ? How is 
this exhibited in matter and mind? What, in short, was his 
system ? 

9. What is said of the birthplace, age, etc., of Anaxagoras ? 
To what extent was the tendency to spirituality observed in Hera- 
clitus carried by Anaxagoras? How were material objects formed? 
How were natural objects regarded then ? To what do we here 
have something very like ? Where did Anaxagoras live and teach 
during the prime of his life, and who took up and continued his 
doctrine afterwards ? 

10. What have we seen in this series of philosophers ? What 
has been their course ? What must have been admitted at the 
beginning ? How was every thing regarded ? To what kind of 
knowledge alone do the Ionian philosophers seem to have held ? 



APPENDIX. 303 

11. From what, and to what, shall we turn to discover a philo- 
sophical movement of a very different kind ? What is that which 
is investigated by this school of philosophy ? How did the 
phenomenal world appear to these philosophers ? Why should it 
seem thus to them ? What, then, determined them to their course 
of speculation ? What has the school been called ? 

12. What is said of the birthplace, age, etc., of Pythagoras ? 
What was his fundamental doctrine ? What must he have meant 
by this ? What alone can things be ? What was such a doctrine 
easily carried out into ? How did he regard the soul ? How the 
divine mind ? How should his philosophy be classified ? 

13. What is said of the birthplace, philosophy., age, and wander- 
ings of Xenophanes ? Does he seem to have had any actual con- 
nection with Pythagoras ? In what respect w r as his system like 
that of Pythagoras, and in what respects different ? State the 
differences. 

14. What is said of the birthplace and relation of Parmenides 
to Xenophanes ? What did the deity of Xenophanes become with 
him ? What was the phenomenal world with him ? What were 
thought and being ? How did he recognize the existent ? What 
problem arose hence ? 

15. What is said of the birthplace, age, and relation of Zeno to 
Parmenides? To what task does he seem to have devoted himself? 
To defend the one, what did he have to disprove ? How did he 
attempt this ? What are the four contradictions which he set 
forth ? What did he invent ? 

16. What is said of the birthplace, age, and relation to the pre- 
ceding philosophers of Empedocles ? How did he conceive of the 
world ? What did he call this totality of elements and forces ? 
What was he then ? How was the one or God of the Eleatics re- 
tained then ? What is said of his relation to Anaxagoras and 
Democritus ? What doctrine does he seem to have been the first 
to propound ?. What was his doctrine of perception ? 



304 APPENDIX. 

17. Where and when was Democritus born ? Of what philoso- 
phy was he the founder ? What does he naturally close ? What 
has already been stated in regard to him ? What is said of the 
relation of his atoms to the elementary substances of Empedocles 
and Anaxagoras ? What did he teach that all the senses are ? 
What distinction did he make ? What is said of his philosophy ? 

18. What is here said about the course of the light of philoso- 
phy ? What place had most of the recent philosophers visited ? 
What sham philosophers came with the genuine ? Where were 
they mostly from ? What did they aim at ? What might their 
teaching be called ? What did philosophy become in their hands ? 

19. Who were the leading Sophists ? What did they receive for 
their instruction ? What was their general doctrine in regard to 
knowledge ? Does it seem certain that they carried out this doc- 
trine in morals ? What did Socrates show them ? What is said 
of their influence both for evil and for good ? 

20. At what period does Socrates make his appearance ? What 
is said of his origin and character ? With what class did he retain 
his sympathy, and where did he hold his discussions ? To what 
classes of philosophers did he chiefly oppose himself? To what 
did he appeal against the sophists ? 

21. Did Socrates teach or leave any complete system of philoso- 
phy ? What influence did he have upon the minds of others ? 
What new method did he introduce ? What was his course in his 
discussions ? What, then, did he teach men to do ? What did he 
exhibit in these discussions ? To what did his principles incline ? 
What were his views on morals ? What is said of these views p 
Why should virtue lead to happiness according to his views ? 

22. What sprang from the Socratic life and teaching ? What 
was the effect of the personal interest connected with his character? 
What was the effect of the free scope of his instruction ? What 
eho lid we not be surprised at then ? 



APPENDIX. 305 

23. Where was the seat of the Megaric school, who was its 
founder, etc. ? Who had been Euclid's "teachers ? Wha' is said 
of his system ? What is said of the ethical element in his system ? 
Who was he followed by? What was their great instrument? 
What did Stilpo develop, and how ? Of what doctrine, then, was 
he the author ? 

24. By whom was the Cyrenaic school founded, and what is said 
of the history of its founder ? What doctrine of Socrates did he 
reverse ? What were his criteria of actions ? What was his doc- 
trine, then ? What is said of such a philosophy ? 

25. Who was the founder of the Cynic school, and whence its 
name ? What is said of its system of philosophy ? What is here 
said of Socrates ? Who were his peculiarities exaggerated by ? 
What was the common "appellation given to both the founder and 
to Diogenes ? What did they possess ? 

26. Who alone truly represented the spirit of Socrates ? Why 
should he imbibe his spirit ? What, however, is said of his system 
compared with his master's ? What of his travels ? What was he 
thus prepared for ? Where did he establish himself as teacher of 
philosophy ? What is said of his labors there ? 

27. What distinction did Plato continue in his philosophy ? 
What was the great aim of the teaching of Socrates ? What was 
the central principle of the system of Plato ? What was his doc- 
trine of ideas ? What was his view of matter ? What was sensa- 
tion, and what perception, with him ? 

28. In the statement of the Platonic theory of perception by 
Professor Butler, what is the first item ? What the second ? 
What the third ? What the fourth ? 

29. What is the predominant spirit and aim of the philosophy 
of Plato ? What does it propose ? What is the relation of the 
true, the beautiful, and the good ? What is the study of truth, 
then ? What is the effect of philosophy ? What is this only 



306 APPENDIX. 

carrying out ? "What was happiness the fruit of according tc him ? 
What is philosophy, the#, and why ? What is said of the go &d ? 

30. What, according to Professor Butler, does the system of 
Plato suppose ? State the relation between the beautiful, the just, 
the good, and the true ? What, then, is the great requisite of 
virtue, and what the consequence of the fitness of the soul for this 
end ? What is it to approach God under different forms ? 

31. Into what other departments did Plato carry this lofty spirit 
of speculation ? What is said of his ideal state ? What are we 
prepared to expect in regard to such a state ? What is his ideal 
state in reality ? What is said of his physical system ? What was 
it but an attempt at ? 

32. Who were the successors of Plato a*l the academy ? What is 
here said of Cicero ? What is said of these successors of Plato ? 
What did they soon sink into ? What did they maintain against 
the Stoics ? What are the dominant maxims of the academic 
philosophy ? 

33. What element was exaggerated in new Platonism ? What is 
said of its history ? What did the system hold to ? What was it 
an attempt to do ? What did its pretensions prove ? What did 
its mystic enthusiasm degenerate into ? 

34. What of the history of Aristotle ? What is said of the cen- 
tral idea of his system ? How were ideas treated by Socrates, 
Plato, and Aristotle, respectively ? What, respectively, did the in- 
vestigation of Socrates, and the dialectics of Plato, become with 
Aristotle ? What did the idea become, then ? What, however, 
did he suppose ? Beginning with experience, how did his philoso- 
phy end ? 

35. What distinction did he introduce ? What was the perma- 
nent, and what the phenomenal, with him ? What was potential, 
find what actual being ? What the infinite, and what the finite ? 



APPENDIX. 307 

36. What are the different subjects which he investigated? 
What is said of the style in which he treated of these subjects ? 
What is his position among ancient philosophers ? Through what 
systems did philosophy decline ? 

37. What was Stoicism the rival of? On what point were the 
two schools at variance ? Point out their respective views on this 
point. What was their difference on this point like ? What did 
the Stoics resist ? 

38. What was the predominant aim of Stoicism ? What of its 
psychology ? What is said of its founder ? What was God in his 
system ? What was it, then, to act according to nature ? How 
was conduct to be controlled ? How was happiness regarded ? 
Who were the great masters of this philosophy ? 

39. Where, and by whom, was Epicureanism founded and taught ? 
What did the Epicureans make the end of life ? What view did 
they take of happiness ? How was conduct to be regulated ? 
What did it not recognize? In what did it make happiness to 
consist ? 

40. What is said of the Socratic movement ? By what were the 
various systems of Grecian philosophy finally absorbed ? What is 
said of the Greek language and philosophy ? What classes at 
Borne adopted the different forms of Greek philosophy ? But what 
new development alone did they receive out of Greece ? 

41. What did Grecian philosophy fall before ? What did 
thought soon begin to do ? What was the object of scholasti- 
cism ? Who were the leading doctors of this system, and in what 
age did they live ? What did they use for this purpose ? What 
is said of their system ? What is said of the sphere of philoso- 
phy and of religion respectively ? 

42. What is said of the downfall of schoiasticism ? What are 
among the causes which produced its downfall ? What is said of 
Bacon ? What of other philosophers ? What at length happened? 



308 APPENDIX. 

43. With whom and at what period does modern philosophy 
begin ? What did Descartes attempt ? What does he start with ? 
What is said of his cogito ergo sum ? What does the assurance 
with which we receive the truth of our own existence become the 
rule of ? But what of things out of ourselves ? 

44. What idea does Descartes here call to his aid ? What did 
he hold that this idea of God forbid ? What is true then ? What 
else did he deduce from the idea of God ? What is said of such a 
use of the idea of God ? What is said of such deductions ? What 
is said of his view of innate ideas ? 

45. What, according to Descartes, are the sole properties of 
mind and matter ? How is their intercourse maintained ? How 
was the soul conceived by him ? What is said of external objects ? 
What is said of his assumed relation of mind and matter ? 

46. What is said of Malebranche ? What was his medium of 
perception ? How was God regarded by him ? How is nature 
brought into relation with the human spirit ? Where is the place 
of souls ? 

47. Where and when was Spinoza born ? What important 
change did he make in the Cartesian philosophy ? What are 
thought and extension in his system ? What finite objects ? 
Where is thought, and where is extension developed ? What is 
said of the world in all its forms, etc. ? What, then, becomes of 
personality and moral character ? 

48. According to the system of Spinoza, what alone exists ? 
What are the relations of phenomenal objects to God ? What is 
natura naturans, and what natura naturata ? In what sense is 
God the cause of all things ? What are his two attributes ? What 
is every thought ? What every thing ? What is said of his 
method ? 

49. Who was the next independent philosopher, and where born? 
Of what sort is his philosophy ? Who had preceded him in the 



APPENDIX. 309 

same line ? What is Locke's fundamental principle ? What, then, 
is the sum of our knowledge ? What is the great business of his 
philosophy ? 

50. What is the first defect of Locke's system ? What the 
second ? How does Locke unconsciously admit primary principles 
of knowledge ? 

51. By whom was Locke's philosophy, in its materialistic ten- 
dency, tolerated ? By whom taken up with enthusiasm ? To what 
consequences did Condillac and Helvetius develop his system? To 
what excesses did La Mettrie, etc., carry it out ? 

52. To what else did the philosophy of Locke lead ? What was 
the double effect of its empirical character ? How did it virtually 
deny all knowledge of external objects, etc.? What, in conse- 
quence, did Berkeley do ? 

53. To what last consequence did Hume carry out Locke's 
system ? On what ground did he deny all knowledge of substance 
and causation ? How does he regard the universal belief in these ? 
How does he regard our notion of them as generated? 

54. To what was the system of Leibnitz opposed ? What is said 
of his pursuit of philosophy, and his method of publishing his 
views ? What are his most considerable works ? 

55. How does the general substance to which he holds differ 
from that of Spinoza? What is this substance composed of? 
What is his monad ? How does the representative power of his 
monads differ in different objects ? 

56. Through what, according to Leibnitz, is the correspondence 
between the mind and the body secured ? State the manner of the 
correspondence. What, then, is true of our knowledge ? What 
is said of his system ? 

57. What philosopher reared his system upon the general basis 



D 



10 APPENDIX. 



of that of Leibnitz ? What, however, did he not, and what did he, 
attempt ? What peculiar theory of Leibnitz did he keep in the 
background ? What did he endeavor to embrace in his system ? 
What is ontology ? What cosmology ? What rational psychology ? 
What speculative theology ? What is said of his system ? 

58. At what point in the history of philosophy have we now 
arrived ? What had been the issue of Locke's philosophy ? What, 
then, was inevitable ? Did this result actually follow, and at what 
two centres ? What, alike, stimulated Heid and Kant to attempt 
to reconstruct the fabric of knowledge ? To what principle of 
certitude do they alike appeal ? 

59. In what form did the philosophy of Kant appear ? What 
does he start with ? What is his philosophy, then ? What is the 
result of his criticism ? What does he call the ideas of reason ? 

60. To what does Kant hold against Locke ? What does he 
hold are the forms under which we necessarily think of things ? 
What does he denominate these forms of thought, and how does 
he regard them ? What is said of his fabric of knowledge ? What 
did he remain true to ? 

61. Does he, however, expressly deny the objective existence of 
things ? What does he make a labored attempt to save ? How 
does he attempt it ? 

62. What is said of Kant's critique of pure reason ? In what 
does its importance consist ? What has been its influence ? What 
course did German processors take in regard to it ? 

63. What is said of the position and character of Jacobi ? What 
was inevitable in his case ? What does he ground his philosophy 
on, in distinction from Kant ? What does he hold to ? How does 
he reason in regard to this matter ? 

64. Who was Herbert, and why is he introduced here ? What 
is his system a peculiar carrying out of? What is his view of 



APPENDIX. 311 

knowledge ? What is his doctrine of reals ? What contradiction 
disappears through this doctrine ? How, on his principles, may an 
object be said to change, and yet remain the same ? How does he 
solve the antinomies of motion ? What is the scul in his system ? 
To what is his doctrine of reals similar ? 

65. What is said of the position and character of Fichte ? How 
did he regard the philosophy of Kant ? Was he virtually right in 
his view ? 

66. What advance did Fichte make in Kant's doctrine of per- 
ception ? What did he find no warrant nor necessity for ?' What 
does the mind necessarily assume ? In perception, what does one 
necessarily affirm ? What are the different categories of thought ? 
What are external objects, then ? What is God ? 

67. What sort of idealism is Fichte's ? What does Hamilton 
say of it ? And yet, in the language of Fichte himself, what is its 



68. Where did Schelling begin his career as a philosopher? On 
leaving Tubingen, what did he first become, and what afterwards ? 
What relation is there between his philosophy and that of Fichte ? 
What are human souls and the experience of life on his system ? 
Where does the contrast between subject and object disappear ? 
What was Schelling, then ? 

69. What, according to Schelling, was the subject of philosophy? 
Can the absolute be known except as we ourselves become the 
absolute ? Can we become the absolute without losing our con- 
sciousness ? What is the alternative, then ? 

70. How, then, can we know the absolute ? What does Schelling 
call such an act of knowledge ? In such an act what disappears ? 

71. What does Schelling found philosophy on ? What is the 
intuition of the absolute evidently the work of? What is the 
pro jess f 



312 APPENDIX. 

72. What has been impossible to Schelling ? What has he vari- 
ously attempted ? 

73. In what do Cousin and Schelling agree ? In what are they 
diametrically opposed ? 

74. What is the history of Hegel ? What did he do for the 
system of Schelling ? What was Schelling's view of subject and 
object, and what Hegel's ? What did the indifference philosophy 
become? And what the intellectual intuition ? What other con- 
trasts disappear, and what, indeed, is the fundamental principle of 
his philosophy ? What does philosophy become ? What, then, is 
his s) r stem theoretically and practically ? In such a system, what 
is nature, man, and even God ? What kind of idealism is this as 
compared with that of Schelling and Fichte ? 

75. With whom does the German movement close? What do 
we find in the Scotch line of speculation ? Who was the founder 
of the Scotch school ? What two other eminent men are named as 
belonging to the school ? What relation do they sustain to the 
founder ? 

76. By whom are the principles of the school admirably stated ? 
What did the school profess? To what did it not limit experience? 
While restricting the science of mind to an observation of the fact 
of consciousness, what did it analyze that fact into ? What did it 
show ? What did it prove ? What was thus distinguished ? 
What was not, and what was, demonstrated ? 

77. What did Reid call these primary principles of knowledge ? 
To what theory of perception do the Scotch metaphysicians hold ? 

78. How, according to Hamilton, do we apprehend our own 
organism as extended ? How do we apprehend objects exterior to 
our organism ? And how do we know these to be extended ? 

79. Why need no extended account of the Scotch philosophy be 
given ? What is it trusted that this abstract may do ? 



APPENDIX. 313 



SUBJECTS FOR COMPOSITION, CON- 
NECTED WITH THE TEXT. 

1. Draw out the antithesis between mind and matter (p. 14). 

2. Give some account of the Platonic sense of the term idea, 
and of its use by subsequent philosophers (p. 17). See Bitter's 
History of Ancient Philosophy, Vol. II. pp. 261-300. Also, 
Wight's Hamilton, pp. 200 and 211. 

3. Set forth the distinction between the three great mental pro- 
cesses of knowing, trilling, and feeling (p. 22). See Bowen's 
Hamilton, Chap. VIII. 

4. Explain the effects of habit, according to either of the theories 
suggested in No. 3, p. 25. For the automatic theory, consult Hol- 
land's Chapters on Mental Physiology; and for the other theories, 
B owen's Hamilton, Chap. XIV., and Stewart's Elements, Chap. H. 

5. What is the state of the mind in sleep (p. 26). See Bowen's 
Hamilton, Chap. XIII. 

6. Are our ideas of space and time original, native notions? 
(pp. 32-35.) See Kant's Critique of Pure Reason, Part I. Also, 
Spencer's Principles of Psychology, pp. 230-264. 

7. In what does our personal identity consist? (p. 39.) See 
Butler's Dissertation at the end of the Analogy. 

8. Give some account of Spinoza's system (p. 51). See Lewes' 
History of Philosophy. 

9. Give some account of idealism according to Berkeley (p. 52) 
See his Principles of Human Knowledge. 

10. Give some account of nihilism according to Hume (p. 54). 
See his Principles of Human Nature, and Inquiry concerning the 
Human Understanding. 



314 



APPENDIX. 



11. Give some account of the different theories which have been 
suggested for conveying in impressions to the mind (p. 64). See 
Reid's Essays on the Intellectual Powers, Essay II. 

12. 'Show the advantage which we derive from double organs of 
perception (p. 78). 

13. Compare the perceptions of touch and sight, as to their cer- 
tainty, their extent, their utility, agreeableness, etc. (p. 84.) 

14. Show the importance of the physical element in language 
(p. 85). See Trench on Words, and Swinton's Rambles among 
Words. 

15. Show the importance of an ever wakeful use of the senses 
(p. 86). 

16. Give an account of Hamilton's view of memory (p. 91). See 
B owen's Hamilton, Chap. XXII. 

17. Give some account of the physical view of memory (p. 102). 
See Hobbes on Association of Ideas, and Hartley's Observations 
on Man. 

18. Illustrate the distinction between imagination and conception 
(p. 114). 

19. Illustrate the distinction between imagination and fancy 
(p. 126). 

20. Show the importance of the imagination to the artist (p. 130). 

21. Show the importance of taste in the use of figures (p. 136). 

22. Give some account of Hamilton's view of proposition (p. 162). 
See Hamilton's Discussions, Appendix II. 

Note. — The above are given mere±y as specimens. Each teacher 
can multiply such topics at his pleasure. 



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